Let Me Remind You
by AndAllThatMishigas
Summary: Ruth left Harry on the docks two years ago. He thought he would never see her again, until a woman is overheard in a hospital in Turkey calling for Harry Pearce. Ruth has found her way home, but Harry discovers that she is still lost to him. But in time, they will both be reminded of what really matters.
1. Chapter 1

**Let Me Remind You**

_My touch will always find you  
Follow this, my kiss will guide you  
__It's time to speak the way love understands  
Like a language you'll never forget  
It can show us the way if we let it take us  
So slow down I know how  
Let me remind you  
-Sugarland  
_

It was a fluke, really. A complete coincidence of fate that had Ben Kaplan seconded to Six and on a mission to Turkey. He just happened to be in a hospital, blending in with the locals and speaking as little as possible in the broken Arabic and miniscule Turkish he knew. And that was why his ear so quickly picked up on the English words he heard spoken as he walked by an exam room.

"Where's Harry? Harry Pearce! I need to speak to Harry Pearce!"

Ben doubled back. The woman shrieking at doctors and nurses had her arm in a sling and was sitting up in a hospital gown. Her skin was pale, though had a healthy glow of the sun. Her dark hair was nearly covered by the bandages on her head. Her eyes were bright blue and wide with fear and stress. He watched her, trying to stay inconspicuous.

"What is your name?" a doctor asked in heavily accented English.

The woman paused, terrified. "I…I don't know. Ask Harry. Harry...Harry would know. Where's Harry Pearce? He'll know...he'll know what to do."

Immediately, Ben pulled out his mobile to call the Grid. He may have been working with Six for the time being, but if some woman who didn't even know her own name was asking for Harry Pearce, someone needed to be informed.

The Thames House operator informed Ben that Harry was out of the office. He wracked his brain, trying to think of who else he should give this information to. Adam was Section Chief, but would he really be the one to know? "Put me through to Malcolm Wynn-Jones," Ben decided.

"Ben? Aren't you with Six?"

"Yeah, I am, listen, Malcolm, I'm in Turkey in a small hospital just outside Anamur, and there's a woman here asking for Harry Pearce."

"Who's asking you for Harry?" Malcolm asked in surprise.

"Not asking me. Just asking. I think maybe she has amnesia or something. But she's English, and I just walked by and overheard her asking for Harry over and over. What should I do?"

Malcolm paused on the line, considering. "What's she look like?"

"Nothing special. Mid-thirties, dark hair, blue eyes." Ben could hear the woman getting louder. "Here, listen." He held the phone out as she demanded to see Harry again. "Did you hear her?"

Malcolm's tone changed immediately. "Ben, you've got to bring her in right away," he ordered abruptly.

"What? Bring her in where?"

"To the Grid. This is extremely serious. She has to see Harry right way. Tell the doctors that she's your brother's wife, that you're on holiday in Turkey all together and she got lost. Tell her that Harry is waiting for her, and you're going to take her home."

Ben didn't much like the shaky, insistent quality of Malcolm's voice. "What's this about? Who is she?"

"Just get her here as quick as you can. I'll get you passports and passage to London, and I'll be in contact with your handler at Six. You need to be back on the Grid tomorrow, do you hear me?" Malcolm demanded.

"Sure, yeah."

"Oh, and Ben? Her name is Ruth."

With that, Malcolm hung up, leaving Ben more confused than when he'd started. But he would do as he was told. Mustering up all the bravado he could as a newly-minted spook, Ben rushed into the room to play the part of worried relative. "Ruth, there you are! Are you alright? What's wrong?"

She looked at him as though he'd got three extra heads.

Ben turned to the doctor. "She's my brother's wife. We're on holiday. Is she alright?"

The doctor mercifully fell for it. "Car accident. She was thrown from the vehicle before it exploded. Cracked skull, fractured arm, three broken ribs, lots of bad cuts."

"Can I take her home? We're supposed to fly back to London tomorrow."

"Yes," the doctor replied. "I set the bones. The bandages need replacing every four hours. I will get you the pain medication for her."

The doctor and nurses all left and Ben exhaled in relief.

"What's going on?" she asked as soon as they were alone.

Ben turned to Ruth and gave a soft smile. "I'm going to take you to Harry Pearce."


	2. Chapter 2

Ruth was surprisingly agreeable to the whole thing. She allowed Ben to take her out of the hospital and back to his Six safehouse. He changed her bandages. Her hair was stuck with blood and gauze that he helped wipe away since her broken arm was aching and absolutely no use. Ruth stayed quiet through everything. Whether from confusion, pain, or exhaustion, Ben wasn't sure.

The package from Malcolm arrived later that afternoon with all the things they'd need for their travel along with a change of clothes for Ruth. In the meantime, they talked. Or tried to.

"So how do you know Harry Pearce?"

"I don't know," she told him.

"Why were you asking for him?"

"I don't know. That's the only name in my head. And I don't think it's my name."

"Your name is Ruth," he informed her.

She frowned. "How do you know?"

"Someone told me. The same someone who got all these things for us so we can get back to London."

Ruth merely hummed. They were quiet for a little while. Then she asked, "Do you know me?"

"No. But I know Harry. He's my boss."

That seemed to surprise her. "What's he like?"

"You don't know?"

She shook her head but immediately stopped, grimacing with the pain of the movement. She sighed in sad exasperation. "All I know is the name. And I can understand Turkish and Arabic and English, obviously. Maybe more. I feel like my head is full of words, all sorts of words, but no meaning. I don't know who I am or where I'm from or why I'm in Turkey. And I only know we're in Turkey because I understand Turkish."

"But you know Harry," he pressed

Ruth gave a slight shrug. "I assume I must. Somehow. What sort of boss is he? I mean, where do you work where he's your boss?"

Ben paused. "I'm not sure if I can tell you that."

"Why not?"

He paused again, unsure of what he was allowed to say. He decided not to risk it. "Stay here. I've got to make a call."

Ben stepped out of the room and called Malcolm again. "She's asking a lot of questions. How much should I tell her?"

"As little as possible. She shouldn't be getting the wrong idea. And you don't know her, you can't tell her what she needs to know or what she should hear. Just tell her…tell her she'll see Harry tomorrow and he'll explain everything."

"She doesn't know Harry. I mean, she knows the name, but she has no idea who he is or anything about him. I just said he's my boss."

Malcolm sighed. "Alright, you can say that she and Harry knew each other a long time ago, that they worked together and they were very close. And that's all."

"Is that true? She used to be on the Grid?"

"Yes."

"You knew her?"

"She was a very dear friend to me," Malcolm replied, his voice full of emotion that Ben couldn't quite understand.

"Why's she in Turkey, then?"

"I can honestly tell you that I don't know." And with that, Malcolm hung up again.

Ben went back into the room. "Sorry about that, Ruth."

"Everything alright?" she asked with concern.

He gave her a reassuring smile. "Yeah, everything's fine. You'll see Harry tomorrow. You used to work with him a long time ago, and you were very close. He'll be glad to see you." Ben wasn't entirely sure that last part was true, but from the cryptic information Malcolm gave him, that seemed like a fair bet.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry was in meetings at Whitehall all day. The absolute worst day for it. Malcolm couldn't very well pull him out; this wasn't a terrorist threat or an issue of national security, though Malcolm was rather certain that this was more important than anything to Harry's mind. And so, Malcolm simply waited for Harry to return.

It was long after the shift change when Harry did finally enter the Grid. The blinds in his office were drawn, causing him pause. They'd been open when he'd left, he was sure of it. But upon entering, he saw why. Malcolm was sitting on the sofa with two glasses of scotch already poured, presumably one of them for Harry, and he had a rather grave expression on his face.

"Malcolm, what's going on?"

"I think perhaps you should sit down."

This wasn't the sort of thing Harry liked to hear. Especially not from Malcolm. "What's going on?" he asked again, sitting as he was told.

Malcolm took a deep breath and launched into explanation. "Ben is in Turkey."

"Seconded to Six, yes," he remembered, hoping to move this along.

"Yes. And he happened to be in a hospital when he overheard someone asking for you."

This wasn't what Harry had expected. Far from it. "For me?"

"Ben called in immediately, and since you weren't here, he asked for me. Bloody good he did, too."

Harry was getting annoyed with the commentary and long way round. "Malcolm…" he growled warningly.

"It's Ruth, Harry."

The glass of scotch fell right out of Harry's hand and spilled all over the table. Thankfully, nothing broke. Malcolm was frantically trying to wipe up the spill. Harry was frozen to the spot. "Ruth?" he breathed.

Malcolm looked back at his old friend, seeing the shocked expression on his face. "According to Ben, she may have amnesia. Doesn't know her own name or anything else, but she was asking for you. I've already worked it out with Six and gotten passports sorted. He's bringing her here tomorrow."

Harry was numb. Numb and horrified and elated and everything else. He felt frozen where he sat, unable to fathom this news. "Is she alright?" Harry asked quietly.

He didn't actually know the answer to that question, so Malcolm only said, "The hospital let Ben take her. I told him to say she was his brother's wife. And I only told him that she's an old friend of mine, that she used to work here, and she was close to you. I didn't think you'd want Ben to know much more, and I think you should be the one to talk to Ruth, if she does have amnesia."

Harry was still in a mild state of shock. Ruth was coming back to him. She had asked for him and miraculously found someone to bring her back to him. Tomorrow. He'd see her tomorrow. Could such a thing be possible? After two years, he had not gone a single day without the painful pang in his heart from thinking of her. And he had truly believed he would live the rest of his miserable life just like that, missing her every single day. When he'd said goodbye to her that day on the dock, he was rather certain he'd never see her again. He took care of her cats, he'd treasured the postcard she'd sent signed Stubborn Mule, and he'd dreamed of her in the quiet, dark moments of his life. But he never really imagined that he'd see her again. Ruth. He had loved her so dearly—and still did—and he'd never gotten to tell her. And now…what sort of state was she returning to him in? But did it really matter?

Malcolm seemed to read his mind. "Ruth is coming home to you, Harry. Surely that's all that matters?"

Harry merely nodded.

"I should get home to Mum. I wanted to be sure to tell you as soon as you came in. I've got them on a commercial flight getting into Heathrow at about eight in the morning with the time change. I've got a pool car picking them up and taking them straight here."

"Thank you, Malcolm."

He put a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder. "Get some rest. I've no doubt you'll be busy tomorrow."

Harry nodded again, barely noticing as Malcolm left the office, leaving Harry alone with his swirling emotions.


	4. Chapter 4

She was whisked out of the apartment with Ben—he'd only said Ben, nothing else—and taken in a car to an airport. The drive was so long, the sun was up by the time they got on the plane. Her passport said Ruth Wallace, though she wasn't sure if that was actually her name or not. Ben's passport said Wallace as well. He'd told the doctor that she was his brother's wife. She hadn't asked him if that was true. She was fairly certain she wasn't married, but then again, she couldn't be too sure of anything.

By the time they landed in London, she was exhausted beyond belief. She'd barely slept in the car or on the plane. She was too anxious about what was going on, even with the pain medication making her sleepy. Ben had tried to keep her bandages changed, but with all the travel, there was little he could do. She only hoped that wherever they were going, she could get cleaned up and properly looked after. But more than anything, she wanted to see Harry. Harry Pearce. Whoever he was.

What had Ben told her? She'd worked with Harry, and they were close? He'd be happy to see her? She certainly hoped so. She had so many questions, and somehow, she knew Harry Pearce was the one who could answer them.

Ben took her good arm and led her from the plane to a black car, which drove them into the heart of London. She recognized some things about the city. Why, she couldn't quite say. The car pulled up in front of a terrifying white edifice with black doors.

"Where are we?" she asked, hoping an address might spark a memory or some better recognition.

"Thames House," Ben replied simply, leading her inside.

That name rang a bell. But again, she wasn't sure why. It was all horribly frustrating, having everything on the tip of her tongue but nothing coming to mind. If she weren't so exhausted, perhaps she'd be more annoyed.

Ben was talking to a number of people in hushed tones, gesturing to her vaguely. They went down an elevator to a basement level of the building. He led her into a cement room with a table and two chairs. "Sit down," he told her in a quiet, gentle tone. "Someone will be with you soon." Ben helped her to get settled and then closed the door behind him without another word.

She did as she was told. And she waited.

Before long, the door opened again. A man walked in. He was middle aged, perhaps about fifty, judging by the sparse hair on his head and the loose skin on his neck. He wasn't very tall, but broad and bulky and wearing a very nice black suit and tie. He looked tired and slightly grumpy with his full lips in a pout. But he met her eyes and instantly everything about him softened. He exhaled in relief, for some reason. His hazel eyes seemed to sparkle as he looked at her.

"Hello," he said quietly.

"Hello," she greeted in return.

His gaze left her eyes and traveled over her body and her many bandages and plaster-covered arm. "Are you in pain?" he asked with concern.

"Not much. I've had some pills. But I'm very tired and in desperate need of a bath."

He nodded. "That can be arranged."

She watched him watch her and finally broke the silence between them. "Are you Harry Pearce?" she asked with a furrowed brow.

He walked over to the table and sat down, smiling. "Yes, I am. And you are Ruth Evershed."

She smiled. Ruth. Her name was Ruth Evershed. She had a name, first and last. It was a nice name. She liked it. "Why do I know your name but not mine?" she asked him.

"I'm afraid I don't know. But I am very glad you know my name. I'm glad you were brought here. It's been a very long time since I've seen you. We were forced apart, unfortunately," he told her.

Ruth took a moment to ponder on his words. She regarded him very carefully and asked, "Did I love you, Harry?"

That question seemed to take him by surprise, but he didn't look displeased. "I hope so. I certainly wanted you to."

"Did you love me?"

"Oh very much."

The tone of his voice told her he was being sincere. And suddenly her whole body ached, though not due to any of her injuries. She looked down at her hands resting on the table. "Then I'm very sorry."

"Why are you sorry, Ruth?" he asked her kindly.

She looked back up at him. "Because you loved who I was. And I'm not sure who that is. And you might not love who I turn out to be now, and I think that's very sad."

But Harry only smiled. "I think I'll be very happy to have you back in my life, no matter who you turn out to be." His hand twitched slightly. Ruth got the distinct impression that perhaps he wanted to reach out and hold her hand. But he didn't. And she was strangely disappointed at that.


	5. Chapter 5

Ruth paused to consider Harry's words for a moment and found herself unsure of how to respond. There were a million things she wanted to ask him, this man who knew her, who loved her. And yet Ruth could not seem to pluck a single thing from her mind to come out of her mouth.

Harry watched her quietly for a moment. He knew better than to rush her. Especially now. She'd always needed time, which he'd never fully appreciated, always being a man of action, decisive out of necessity. But not Ruth. She needed to think, to ponder, to analyze. Always needing more time. And now, especially, when she had nothing from which to draw her analysis. Harry knew he had to be patient and give her time. For once, he was going to try to give her what she needed.

Her eyes seemed to glaze over, and that's when Harry interrupted her thoughts. "Ruth, I want to have the doctors here take a look at you. You've been traveling a long time, and I want to make sure you're alright."

She nodded numbly. He stood up to lead her from the room when she paused, gasping with sudden realization. "Where am I to go?"

"I'll show you," he replied, holding out a hand to lead her to the medical quarters of Thames House.

But Ruth shook her head, wincing with the pain. She clarified, "I mean after. I haven't got anywhere to go, have I? Do I have a house here? A flat or something?"

Harry wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his embrace and kiss her hair and tell her everything was alright. But she was injured and confused, and he mustn't overwhelm her. He kept his distance. "I'll be making arrangements for you. A place to stay, new clothes, food, everything you'll need while you recover."

She searched his face with frightened, wide eyes. "Thank you, Harry."

He could see that she was about to cry, and that wouldn't do anyone any good. He just nodded curtly. "Of course. Come along, let's get you looked after."

Ruth followed him through the halls of Thames House to the medics. Harry went to speak on the phone in the corridor while Ruth was examined. The action was two-fold, ensuring her privacy and taking care of her living arrangements for the time being.

Harry knew he was pulling more strings than he ought to, but he was compelled to do all he could for her. It was still all his fault that this had all happened to her. His fault that she was framed for murder. His fault that she sacrificed her whole life to ensure his position. His fault she'd been on the run for two bloody years. And, as a result of all that, it was his fault she'd been in a car accident and gotten broken and battered and lost her memory. Harry and Harry alone would be responsible for her. To ensure no more harm would befall her and to keep her with him. It was a greedy prospect, he knew. But he'd gotten her back, rather the worse for wear, and he wouldn't let her go ever again.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry was able to swing it so he could leave the Grid for a few hours. Ruth was sitting in the passenger seat of his car, looking rather small and frightened and exhausted. The doctor had told Harry that what she needed more than anything was a bit of food and a good night's rest. The rest of the healing would come in time. Other than the amnesia caused by head trauma, all of her injuries were relatively minor.

He arranged for a fully stocked safehouse for her to stay in. It was equidistant from his own house and the Grid, which meant that he wouldn't be far from her wherever he was. He did not tell her this, however. She may have known his name, but she didn't know him, and he wasn't sure how comforting his presence might be. What mattered most was to make her feel safe, however much it might pain him.

"Ruth, you'll be staying here for the time being," he told her, unlocking the door to the small townhouse. "Everything you need should be inside. Food and clothes and things."

She nodded quietly.

He led her inside and turned on the lights. "I'm going to fix you some toast, since you haven't eaten anything all day, and a cup of tea. The bathroom is down the hall there, if you'd like to use it, and the bedroom is at the end."

Ruth made her way to the bathroom, stumbling slightly. She had to be dead on her feet, and probably in a fair amount of pain. Luckily, the tea and toast were ready by the time she managed to return to the kitchen.

"How are you feeling?" he asked with concern as she came to the table with a bit of a thud, as though she'd fallen into the chair rather than properly sat down in it.

"Mushy," she said after a moment of thought.

He nearly laughed at that, but wisely did not. "Mushy?"

"My brain feels like mush. Everything's all jumbled and foggy," she explained, her words coming out slightly mumbled and slurred.

"Just eat a bit and then you can go right to bed," he replied kindly.

Ruth took a few bites of toast with marmalade and sipped her tea. "I like marmalade," she realized.

He smiled softly. "I know."

"Do you?"

"Yes. And you like your tea with just a splash of milk."

She frowned. "Yes, I do. I didn't even realize that it's perfect. I didn't say anything."

"You don't need to," he murmured in response.

Ruth was slightly more lucid with some nutrition in her system, but she still had that glassy-eyed look that worried Harry. As soon as she'd finished eating and drinking, Harry helped her stand up and ushered her to bed.

He placed a pair of pajamas on top of the pillow for her and stood in front of her awkwardly. "Erm, right. I'll be going, then. I've written my mobile number on the pad in the kitchen. If you need anything, please call."

"You're leaving?"

"I…I don't want to intrude," he stammered.

Her eyes went wide and frightened again. "Please don't go. Please, I don't want to be alone."

She was getting all worked up, so Harry put gentle hands on her shoulders. "Shh, it's alright, Ruth. I won't go if you don't want me to. I'll stay. I'll just be in the living room if you need anything," he promised.

Ruth seemed to relax slightly at his touch, which Harry found extremely odd. But perhaps this was a symptom of the mush she was feeling earlier. The assurance that she wouldn't be left on her own was what comforted her, surely. For in the past, Harry had found that Ruth tended to tense up when they were close like this. The few times he'd dared to touch her had usually resulted in that reaction.

"Get to bed, Ruth. Rest."

She nodded again and turned to change her clothes. Harry left and closed the door behind him. He wouldn't leave, he'd promised her. But he didn't like being away from the Grid unexpectedly. Not that Adam couldn't handle things, but being out of the loop was an annoyance Harry preferred to do without.

He made calls, checked in where he needed to. He purposefully left Ruth's name out of everything, merely telling anyone who needed to know that he was detained by a personal matter but was available on his mobile.

Harry's final call was to Ben, to thank the young officer for taking good care of Ruth and apologizing for interfering with his operation with Six.

"Is she alright?" Ben asked.

His concern warmed Harry. He was a good lad. "She's resting. It's been a trying few days for her."

There was a pause on the line as Ben worked up the courage to ask, "Who is she, Harry?"

"At one time, she was the best intelligence analyst MI-5 has ever seen. Now, technically, she's dead."

"What?"

"If you wish, you may tell Adam and Jo and Ros that you brought Ruth Evershed in from Turkey. They can fill in the rest of the gaps for you."

With that, he hung up and placed his mobile back in his pocket. Harry didn't much like the idea of gossip spreading like wildfire, but he knew he couldn't very well stop it. Ben was a member of the team and deserved to know. The other three had all worked with Ruth. She was their friend, and they all loved her. And if they all wanted to speculate about the nature of Ruth's relationship with Harry, so be it. Ruth would have absolutely hated it. But as it was, Ruth didn't know any of them and wouldn't ever be allowed back inside Thames House, if her memory didn't recover. She'd never know that they were all talking about her and about him. And if it undermined his authority, as she'd once worried it might, bugger his authority. He wasn't about to let pointless whisperings get in the way of having her back in his life. Harry didn't doubt that he still had the ability to instill the fear of god into his subordinates, even if they knew he'd gone all moony over a woman far too young and beautiful for him.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry sat down on the sofa and quickly realized he didn't want to be there. Ruth was just down the hall. He nearly laughed to think of such a thing. Ruth Evershed was in London and just down the hall. She was alive and she was real and she was safe. And she was right down the hall.

He never believed such a thing could happen. He had been so certain that he would be missing her for the rest of her days, cursed to never be rid of the ache in his heart caused by the love he bore for her, though she was far away. But now she was back, she had searched for him, had known his name when she did not know his own. He had always felt a protectiveness toward her, but now that she was so vulnerable with her injuries and her amnesia, his need to keep her safe had increased a hundredfold.

And so softly as he could, Harry went back into the bedroom, telling himself that he was only going to check on her, to make sure she was alright. He desperately needed to be sure that she was alright.

He found her sleeping soundly. Her broken arm was cradled against her chest and the other was flung back above her bandaged head on the pillow. In the dim light from the streetlights outside, Harry could only see that she looked peaceful and impossibly beautiful. He longed to know what had brought such torment upon her. She had been thrown from a car in an accident. Had she been the one driving? Or had there been a driver that was out there looking for her when she had been brought to hospital and calling for Harry? What was she doing in Turkey to begin with? Harry had so many questions for her, and he knew she had no answers to give him. After all, she had no answers to give herself for the time being.

Harry knew he should leave her be. Should go back into the living room and sleep on the sofa. But he couldn't tear himself away from her. Not now that she was right here. He couldn't stop looking at her, though the longer her did, the more he felt he wanted to weep with the weight of his emotions. She was safe and a little broken, but mostly whole. But she didn't know him, didn't know who they were, didn't know what they had. Perhaps she'd remember in time. But perhaps she wouldn't. The doctor had told Harry there wasn't any way to know at this early stage.

Unable to do much else, Harry sat down in the armchair in the corner of the bedroom. He watched the duvet rise and fall with each breath she took, and he could hear the faintest little snores come out of her. And as he watched her, he was lulled to sleep by her tranquil form and by the beautiful dream that she was right there. Now, all he had to do was open his eyes, and she would be with him. After two years of only seeing her in his dreams, Harry found this to be a nice change.


	8. Chapter 8

Ruth woke gradually. She was vaguely aware of sunlight and the sounds of birds and cars out in the street. As her mind began to enter the waking world, all her sensations came at once. Pain. So much pain. And when she opened her eyes, panic.

She sat up with a loud gasp of terror.

"Ruth? Are you alright?" came a mumbling voice to her left.

"Harry," she breathed, seeing him sitting all rumpled in a chair beside the bed.

"I'm here, Ruth," he soothed, sitting up to better attend to her. His voice was strained by disuse from sleep. Her racing heart calmed.

Exhaling in relief, she smiled softly. "I'm alright, Harry. Forgot where I was for a moment."

He nodded in understanding. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got thrown out of a moving car," she grumbled.

Harry nearly laughed. "Well, you did get thrown out of a moving car. Do you remember anything?"

She thought for a moment, trying to recall something, _anything_. But no. "Nothing before I woke up in the hospital in Turkey," she replied in defeat. "But I think i remember everything since then."

He nodded again and stood up, stretching and groaning and grimacing.

"Did you sleep all night in that chair?" she asked with a frown.

"Yes," he replied somewhat sheepishly.

She scoffed at his foolish chivalry. "You should have joined me in bed."

Harry's heart leapt in his chest. "What?"

"You told me yesterday that we were in love. Or rather that you loved me and you hoped I loved you. Surely that means we were romantically involved, and I should hope that we shared a bed, didn't we?" Ruth asked, running through her logical analysis of the information she'd been given.

Thrilling as it was, the idea of sharing a bed with her, Harry's chest ached at hearing her words. "We're…complicated, you and I. I didn't think it would be appropriate. I should have stayed on the sofa."

"Oh," she replied with a frown. Whether she was disappointed in what he said or in getting her analysis wrong, Harry couldn't quite tell.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, offering, "I can make you some breakfast before I go."

Her eyes went wide. "Go? Where are you going?"

"I've got to go to work, Ruth," he explained gently.

The warring emotions showed quite clearly on her face. "Of course," she finally said, trying to be understanding.

Harry nearly smiled. Ruth was never one to want to cause a fuss. Good to see that hadn't changed.

"So you're…you're leaving me alone?" Her eyes focused on her hands, wringing the edge of the bedsheet.

He understood her fear. Or at least he tried to. It couldn't have been easy, a brilliant mind like hers so full of everything under the sun suddenly quite empty. A daunting prospect, surely. Harry sighed, knowing he'd probably regret this decision, but deciding to make it nonetheless. "Alright, I've got an idea. Get dressed. I'll make breakfast. Then you're coming with me."


	9. Chapter 9

Harry drove Ruth through the city, though it wasn't very far. She watched the scenery go by, hoping desperately that something would look familiar. Nothing did. At least nothing she could recognize as being familiar. At last they stopped in front of a beautiful large house.

"Where are we?" she asked, hoping she wasn't supposed to know. It was horrific, not knowing what she was supposed to know. Now that she'd gotten some rest and a proper meal—Harry made some lovely eggs and bacon for them both—she was really quite annoyed with her own lack of memory.

"You'll stay here now," he replied simply, getting out of the car and coming over to help her out, what with her arm still in a cast and sling. "It isn't ideal, I know, but you won't be completely alone here. Hopefully that will help. Unfortunately, I can't get anyone to stay with you all day."

Now Ruth was thoroughly confused. But she followed Harry inside the house. He unlocked the door and disabled a rather elaborate alarm system. They were greeted by the scuttling noises.

A scruffy white dog came trotting over, tail wagging merrily. The dog was followed by a large gray cat. Another cat, a black and white tuxedo, sat on the bottom of the staircase, staring at them all.

The dog began pawing at Harry's pantleg while the gray cat wound its way around Ruth's ankles. She smiled to see the animals. "Hello, there." She bent down to scratch the cat's ears, earning some very loud purrs in response.

Harry pursed his lips, trying not to beam grinning. "This is Scarlett. You've got Fidget there and Leopold is over by the stairs. He's not nearly as affectionate, but he's always nearby, watching everyone else," Harry explained. "I should think the animals can keep you company until I can get away from the office tonight."

Ruth turned her attention to letting Scarlett sniff her hand. The little dog panted excitedly and nuzzled against her. "They're lovely, Harry. I take it this is your house, then? And your pets?"

"My house, yes. And…erm…yes, my pets. Scarlett and the…and the cats."

She narrowed her eyes slightly, unsure of why he might be stammering slightly. Nervous? Perhaps. "Have I been to your house before?"

"Yes." Harry didn't offer any further explanation. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Right, let me show you your room."

Ruth found she was once again rather surprised that, given what she'd been led to believe about her history with Harry, that he should be showing _her_ room, rather than _their _room. Perhaps she'd incorrectly assumed the nature of their previous relationship. Though, for the life of her, Ruth couldn't fathom a world where she'd not spent time in Harry's bed. He seemed perfectly fit for it. He certainly seemed to care for her. What would have stopped them? Obviously there was a lot locked away in Ruth's head of which she was frustratingly unaware.

She followed him upstairs and into a guest room. It was sparse and dull but clean and full of essential items. "I'll make sure some new clothes are sent for you," he told her, answering her unspoken question about whether she had any possessions or what she should do if she needed anything. "It'll take some time to get everything sorted. I'll keep the townhouse reserved for you, if you don't like it here. I don't want you to feel compelled to stay. Though I'm sure the animals will enjoy having you here."

"I'm sure I'll enjoy spending my time with them," she told him softly.

"I'd appreciate if you could take Scarlett out in the yard every few hours. Make sure they've all got water. I'll feed them before I go, show you where everything is. You're welcome to anything in the kitchen," he informed her.

Ruth nodded and followed him back downstairs to the kitchen. And after another awkward pause between them, Harry told her it was time for him to go to work. "Thank you, Harry," she said softly. She was smiling, appreciative of the trust Harry was clearly putting in her, leaving her to care for his pets in his home. Leopold had vacated his watchman's position and was now rubbed up against Ruth's leg. Perhaps Harry was wrong about the cat's lack of affection.

"I've written down my mobile for you. Call if you need anything."

She nodded once more before following him back to the front door.

"I'm off then."

"Have a nice day." Giving in to impulse and having no reason why she shouldn't, Ruth stood on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. His skin was just as soft as she'd imagined, and he smelled absolutely heavenly, despite sleeping in a chair all night and not having taken a morning shower.

Harry blushed bright pink. "Right. That's good," he said distractedly, turning swiftly and hurrying out, closing the door behind him.

Ruth allowed herself a slight giggle. Why on earth should he be flustered? Ah well, she'd enjoyed showing him some affection. And now she was left in his house with his animals. "Right. What should we do now?" she asked Scarlett, who was staring up at her, panting happily. The two cats were keeping very close as well. Despite a broken arm and cracked ribs, Ruth suddenly felt that there was nothing she wanted to do more than sit on Harry's sofa, surrounded by his things, and snuggle with his pets for a while. And that's exactly what she did.


	10. Chapter 10

Harry arrived at the Grid and was greeted with chaos. Adam, more than anyone else, was absolutely livid. "Where is she, Harry? Is she safe? What's wrong with her?" he demanded to know.

"Ruth is in the safest place for her," Harry replied.

"And where is that?!" Adam pressed.

Harry felt like Mother Goose, gathering all the honking goslings into his office. When they were all assembled, Harry explained, "She has amnesia and remembers nothing from before waking up in a Turkish hospital where Ben found her. Due to the security concerns, she will not be brought anywhere near the Grid again, and none of you are to bother her, is that understood?"

That was all he'd say on the matter. And really, it was true, they weren't allowed to have contact with Ruth for all their safety, and she certainly couldn't come in contact with them either.

He waved them all away and told Malcolm to close the door behind them. Harry sat down and put his face in his hands for a moment. There were more implications to all of this than he'd originally considered. So consumed was he with her return, with getting to have Ruth with him once again, he hadn't fully contemplated the fact that she was still a fugitive on the run. He would need to give this some proper thought and figure out what to do. But for now, he'd just have to make sure she stayed in the house and out of sight until he had a better plan.


	11. Chapter 11

Ruth wasn't sure if she was angry or sad or just confused. Perhaps all three. Tears pricked her eyes as she stared at the screen and white-hot fury bubbled inside her. If she didn't have Scarlett sitting at her feet and Fidget curled up on her lap, she would have gone and broken something. For the sake of the animals, she stayed where she was, her free hand gripping the plaster cast on her arm so tight, she thought it might crack.

The front door opened, and the animals all scurried down the hall to greet their master. Ruth followed them, unsure of how she wanted to greet Harry.

"Hello, Ruth. How are you feeling? Did you have a nice day?" he asked pleasantly.

"I'm dead," she blurted, unable to help herself.

His shoulders fell in a defeated fashion. "Oh dear."

"When were you going to tell me that Ruth Evershed died over two years ago!?" she shouted angrily. The more she thought about it, the more upset she got.

"It's very complicated, Ruth, but suffice it to say you are not actually dead, you are right here, but officially, Ruth Evershed did die," he confessed.

Ruth opened her mouth to shout at him again, to make him tell her the truth and what on earth it was that they were involved in that she'd had to, presumably, fake her death.

But Harry cut her off. "Hang on, how do you know that?"

She squared her shoulders in defiance. "I looked it up on the internet."

"My home computer is encrypted."

"I guessed your password." She did feel rather guilty about that. She had wandered around the house after he'd gone to work that morning and found his home office and thought it might be a good idea to look herself up, see if she could learn some things so she could ask Harry more specific questions and not just be lost in the haze of nothingness and confusion. And when she'd found he had a password, she promised herself five guesses and then she'd give up. She'd guessed it on the third try.

Harry narrowed his eyes at her. "What do you mean you guessed my password?"

"It's my name. Evershed. Only the first E is capitalized and the other two are the number 3 and the S is the number 5." She cast her eyes downward, knowing she sounded utterly insane. But clearly somewhere way deep in the recesses of her unconscious mind, she must have had a knack for things like this. It certainly hadn't been too difficult.

Harry just stared at her in shock. "No institution is a match for your intellect," he muttered.

"What was that?"

"It's just amazing, is all. I know you don't remember anything, but you're still so much yourself. And you know me so well. I should know better than to ever underestimate you," he praised.

A small smile played on her lips. "What a lovely thing to say."

They both watched each other for a moment. There was a slight crackle in the air of the tension between them. It was finally broken when Scarlett began to whine.

"Is it her dinnertime? I wasn't sure what time she normally gets fed." Ruth's face filled with concern for the scruffy little dog.

"She's fine. But I think it is dinnertime for all of us. Why don't I get something started for us, and we can discuss some things?" Harry suggested.

Ruth nodded and followed him into the kitchen. Maybe now she could finally get some answers.


	12. Chapter 12

"I have a list," she said, as soon as she'd finished eating.

Harry, having full use of both his hands, unlike Ruth, had finished dinner already and was sitting back in his chair at his kitchen table, watching her. "A list for what?"

"A list of questions for you. About me. And you. And everything else."

He couldn't help but smile. Of course she had a list. "Alright. Would you like to go through your list?"

She ducked her head in mild embarrassment for her overeager nature, which Harry was obviously familiar with. "I left it in your study. I'll just go get it, shall I?"

"Yes. You go get it while I clean up the dishes, and then perhaps we can sit down in on the sofa and chat, hmm?"

Ruth's expression turned worried. "Oh, but I should help you with the dishes. You were so sweet to cook for me."

"I'm very happy to cook for you, Ruth. I like taking care of you. But your arm is broken so you're not much use in the kitchen right now," he teased.

"Did I like to cook? I mean before?"

Harry paused for a moment, thinking. "I think so, yes. You once made a casserole for me. I think you were worried that I wasn't eating properly, and you wanted to make sure I had a home cooked meal. I don't think you knew at the time that I'm perfectly capable of feeding myself."

"Why would I have thought you weren't?"

"Why don't you just get your list?" he countered softly.

Ruth sensed the brushoff and nodded, padding down the hall to the study to retrieve the three pages of notes she'd taken and questions she hadn't wanted to forget.

She returned to the living room to see Harry pouring himself a glass of scotch. "I'd offer you some, but I don't think it's wise with your pain medication." Ruth just nodded in agreement. Harry gestured for her to sit down with the notepad she was carrying. "Right, what's first on your list?" he asked expectantly.

"How do we know each other?" she began.

"We worked together. You applied to be transferred to my department, and I hired you."

Ruth frowned. That was a rather vague response. "Where did we work?"

"I can't tell you that," he answered firmly.

Her frown deepened. Perhaps she'd return to that. Ruth scanned down her list and went to a different topic. "Do I have any family?"

"Your mother and stepfather. Your father was a doctor, and he died when you were eleven. Your mother remarried. You had a stepbrother, but he died a few years back."

"Before I died?"

"Yes."

"You know my family?"

Harry nodded. "I met your mother when I went to tell her that you died."

"But I didn't die."

A small smile played on Harry's lips. "I'm one of about five people in the world who knows that, Ruth."

"And when did we last see each other?

"The day you had to go away. When you 'died.'"

"We haven't seen each other for two years?" she asked with surprise.

"That's correct."

Her mind was spinning a bit, trying to piece everything together. How was it that she had been wiped of all memory except the name of a man she hadn't seen in two years? "How long did we know each other? Before that, I mean." Perhaps that would answer it.

"We met about three years before you went away," he replied.

Three years wasn't so much time. They'd worked together somewhere he couldn't tell her. She'd seemingly faked her death and run off without a trace two years earlier. Every answer Harry gave her seemed to give her infinitely more questions. One was more pressing on her mind than all the others, however. "How did I die?" she asked quietly.

"I can't tell you that." His refusal to answer was the same, but his tone was so very regretful.

"Why can't you tell me?"

"It would be treason to tell you now."

"Now? Why now?"

"Because," he explained, "in your own mind, you're a stranger to me and to my world, and I cannot let you in again so quickly. Or perhaps ever. But I am working on it, Ruth. I just can't tell you yet."

"Can you at least tell me what I did? What my job was?"

Harry's face transformed from one of concern to one of pride. "You were an analyst. The very best. You're fluent in, I think, twelve languages. You understand patterns and connections better than anyone I've ever known. And you were my right hand most of the time we worked together."

"We were close at work?"

"Yes. I relied on you for quite a lot," he confessed with a small smile.

"And we were friends?"

"Yes."

She broached a slightly more delicate subject. "How long were we together, romantically?"

Harry took a sip of his scotch, steeling himself for this discussion. "We had one very wonderful dinner date before you told me you couldn't see me again. And I will confess that I was quite miserable pining for you for about a month after that until you left."

That response shocked her somehow more than the others. "Just one date?"

"Yes, just the one," he told her sadly.

"And you were in love with me after just one date?" Ruth asked in disbelief.

"I loved you long before then, Ruth."

She furrowed her brow in frustration. "Why did I break it off with you?"

"I'm not entirely sure."

The answer frustrated her. His entire evasive attitude frustrated her. "Well surely I gave you a reason?"

"Just excuses."

She pressed further. "What excuses?"

Harry huffed in his own frustration and blurted, "I loved you, and you were too scared to let me!"

Ruth was stunned into silence. There was just so much to unpick with all this. "I hurt you." It wasn't a question.

"Yes," Harry confirmed quietly. "But I'm afraid I hurt you as well."

She stared at him, waiting for further explanation.

"You sacrificed your entire life for me. I kept my job and you had to run away."

Swallowing the lump forming in her throat, Ruth quietly realized, "Then I must have loved you very much. I don't think I'd be the type of person to do something like that otherwise."

Harry said nothing. He only watched her and sipped his scotch.


	13. Chapter 13

Ruth awkwardly excused herself to go to bed, citing the long and emotional day and her painkillers as the reason for her hasty departure. Both she and Harry knew the truth, however, that she was overwhelmed by all she'd learned this evening, and she couldn't remain in his presence as she tried to process it all. Harry bid her goodnight and offered his assistance, should she need anything as she got ready for bed.

Harry remained downstairs for a while, pouring another glass of scotch. Anything to dull his overwrought emotions. Having her with him when she couldn't remember anything felt like some cruel trick of the gods, something out of some obscure mythology that only Ruth would know. Would have known. It was all such a mess. She was still so much herself, bright and inquisitive and strong-willed and beautiful, yet timid and overly conciliatory. But so much of what they had shared—everything they had shared—was borne of their working relationship, that trust and strength they drew from one another during crisis. All of that was gone now.

How was he supposed to connect with her? They had fallen in love because of the experiences they had survived. And that was really it, they had fought and scraped and struggled and _survived. _The Ruth that Harry fell in love with had been tied to a banister overnight by a cyber terrorist. She had been held at knifepoint and hunted in the woods with a crossbow. She had shouted orders at a police superintendent to quell a riot. She had written a message in Morse Code to give him in the hospital. She had overcome fear to do what needed to be done, and he had fallen in love with a woman who had the softest heart that pumped steel through her veins. And all of that might be gone.

And yet still, he loved her. It was ripping his heart into pieces, but he loved having her near, being able to talk to her and have dinner with her. Even without their history in her head, he was ever so happy to have her back in his life. He smiled, just thinking about the fact that Ruth was upstairs in his house right now, getting into bed in his guest room. In spite of everything, he felt like a lucky man.


	14. Chapter 14

Ruth lay in bed, wide awake. It was a comfortable bed. The sheets were very soft. But she couldn't sleep. She was drained and exhausted but could not seem to fall asleep.

She could hear Harry moving downstairs, speaking to the animals. That made her smile, the thought of that powerful man talking to his little pets, getting them ready for bed. He made his way up the stairs, and Ruth listened as he paused outside her door—presumably listening to make sure she was still and quiet—and walking across the hall to his own room.

As she stared at the dark ceiling, she tried to picture what exactly he was doing, this mysterious love of hers. The fact that she loved him had somehow become a foregone conclusion in her mind. After all, she'd remembered his name when she knew nothing else. He had just told her she'd sacrificed her life for him. She must have loved him and loved him deeply. Even if she did not remember it now, Ruth knew she loved him and wanted him deep down in her heart, despite not knowing exactly why. She willed the memories and the feelings return. She could imagine being happy with him, being here in this house, in his bed, with his animals and in his kitchen and making a life together. Something about all of this was so comfortable and vaguely familiar. Like she was meant to be in this house with him.

With him.

Knowing she was nowhere near falling asleep, Ruth got out of bed, not bothering to put a dressing gown over the oversized sleep shirt she wore and padded out into the hall in her bare feet.

Harry's bedroom light was off. Quietly as she could, she opened the door to slip inside the room and closed the door behind her. If Harry was awake, he made no indication. Ruth crossed to the other side of the bed and got under the covers. Her heart was pounding with the potential foolishness of this action. But surely Harry wouldn't kick her out of his bed? He had said before that she had been too afraid to love him. Perhaps she should try to be brave while she could, before all the things she'd been afraid of before returned to her memory.

"Ruth?" he murmured in the darkness.

"Is this alright?" she whispered in response.

"Of course."

He seemed reticent to get any closer to her. Actually, he seemed to be holding his breath.

Being wary of her broken arm, Ruth scooted closer to him, tentatively resting her head on his shoulder. His arms moved to hold her, and Ruth could feel the tension leave his body.

"Goodnight, Harry."

He pressed a light kiss to her hair. "Goodnight, my Ruth."


	15. Chapter 15

Over the next few weeks, things began to settle. Harry was very busy with work, of course, but Ruth seemed relatively understanding about the long hours. He did not spend time at Thames House more than was absolutely necessary, now that he had a reason to go home. He took Ruth to her doctor appointments; the stitches in her head wound came out the week after she arrived and the cast on her arm was removed another few weeks after that. With less pain, Ruth could do more, and the more she could so, the happier she was.

But over the months that she spent living with Harry and his animals, Ruth did not regain her memory a single bit. Sometimes, just before Harry's alarm woke them up, she thought she was getting dreams about being in a car, possibly just before her accident in Turkey, but she could not be sure. Her old life was lost to her, and while the lack of understanding was certainly frustrating, Ruth did not know what she was missing and therefore did not miss it.

Harry was amazed. She was so happy. She was bright and lovely and enthusiastic and _happy_. He had not known Ruth Evershed to be a particularly happy person. Quite the opposite, actually. Seeing her cooking dinner and playing with the cats and laughing with ease reminded him of when she had first come to work for Section D and she was fresh and earnest and a bit naïve. _I'm not naïve_, he heard her say to him. That was the day he'd asked her out for the first time.

He shook his head. Best not think about that. They were happy here and now, and that was what mattered.

But as happy as she was, Ruth was starting to get a bit bored and restless and rather annoyed by their situation. After all, she had nothing much to do all day. She read all the books she could get her hands on. She watched television. She walked the dog. After Harry had been able to sort out her identity—though he had not told her how—he got her a credit card so she could go to the shops. Ruth had tried to protest, as she did not want to use his money, but he got quite short with her and insisted. His exact words were, "I have more money than I can spend and knowing you are able to take care of yourself and buy some damn chips if you want to will make me feel better so just take the bloody charge card."

Suffice it to say, she was quite frugal with Harry's money, but being able to spend at her leisure was a great help. Most of the time, she just went to the market to buy food to cook for dinner for both Harry and herself, which he always seemed to enjoy.

They had dinner together about four times a week. That was as often as Harry could be home in time. She still did not quite know what it was that he did for work, and she tried to keep the siren call of that mystery tamped down in her. Harry was important and that was all she needed to know for the time being. At least, that's what she told herself.

After that first night, Ruth did not bother trying to sleep in the guest room. They never spoke about it, but it was understood that they would share Harry's bedroom. Their bedroom. But after more than a month, the most intimate thing they had done was fall asleep in each other's arms while fully clothed. Harry would sometimes kiss her hair when he whispered goodnight. Ruth liked to kiss his cheek when he left for work in the mornings. But otherwise, they maintained a friendly distance.


	16. Chapter 16

Ruth wasn't sure what exactly made her do it. Well, she knew why, but she was not sure why she did it that particular day. Why it had taken her so long. After all, she had guessed Harry's computer password on her first day in his house. She was curious and she was bored, so why not do some investigating on her own? Hadn't Harry told her that she was an analyst? Research and such must have been something she was very good at.

So when Harry went to work that day, she walked the dog and went to the market just as she did every morning, and then she settled down in his study to use the computer.

She started by typing the password she'd guessed before. Ev3r53d. His password, even after not having seen her for two years, was her name. He must have loved her very much. He must have missed her very much. He did not show it. Not really. Well, that was something to worry about later, surely.

The password was rejected. Harry must have changed it. Probably for the best. But Ruth was not deterred so easily. She once again told herself she would have five guesses and then give up.

First, she tried another variation of Evershed. Invalid.

Second, she tried Ruth Evershed. Invalid. Perhaps she was being conceited, assuming Harry had kept his password related to her. After all, he had children. She'd seen the photographs of them from when they were very little in frames around the house.

Third, she tried an alpha-numerical combination for Catherine, his daughter. Invalid. She'd asked him his children's names, and thankfully she was able to make and recall new memories. Catherine and Graham, their names were. Good English names. But apparently they used their mother's surname, Townsend, instead of Pearce. Harry had told her that with a rather bitter tone to his voice and a sadness in his eyes that tore at her heartstrings.

Fourth, she tried another variation of Catherine. Invalid.

Fifth, and as a last ditch attempt, Ruth put in 290470RCE, her own birthdate and initials.

_Welcome!_

Ruth was a bit gobsmacked at that one. She'd guessed it again. Oh Harry was going to be absolutely livid. Or perhaps proud. Probably both, if she had to guess. But she was in now and had unfettered access to the internet. Time to figure some things out.

When she had first used his computer to do searches, she had only searched for herself. And she had been so taken aback by finding out that Ruth Evershed was dead that she had not searched for anything else. Besides, Harry had come home then, and she'd immediately confronted him about it.

This time, she wanted to learn more. So the first thing she typed into the search engine was 'Harry Pearce.' Thousands of results. That surprised her a bit. Though perhaps there was a popstar named Harry Pearce that she didn't know about. This couldn't all be about her Harry, could it?

But it was. It all was. Article after article all over the internet about Sir Harry Pearce, MI-5 officer, Head of Section D – Counterterrorism. Blimey, no wonder he worked long hours. He was knighted, too, which she hadn't known. He must have done something truly incredible to earn that. Weren't spooks supposed to keep low profiles? Though when they were in charge of things and not running about assassinating people or bringing down terrorist plots, anonymity was less of a concern.

She pored over everything she could find. There was quite a lot for her to learn. And as she read and learned all about this man she had loved and lost, this man who had given her a home when she knew nothing but his name, Ruth began to put some pieces together. If he worked at MI-5 and she worked closely with him, that meant she had also worked at MI-5. He'd told her she was an analyst and his right hand. She had been an MI-5 intelligence analyst and the right hand to the head of counterterrorism! That was a rather heady thought. Her sacrifice to keep him safe made slightly more sense, too. Surely in their jobs, they encountered life and death situations all the time. And she had been a part of that? She, Ruth Evershed, who had no life of note except a two small lines in the newspaper about her body being found in the Thames two years before, had actually been…important? It hardly seemed real. She wasn't important, she didn't matter! How could this be!?

Ruth drew up another list of questions for Harry. It was much easier this time, as she had full use of both her arms. She wrote up two pages of things she now wanted to know, armed with this new information about where he worked and the sort of things she must have done.

But then she remembered what he had told her that first evening in his house with her first list of questions. _It would be treason for me to tell you now_. Ruth was not a part of that world anymore. She may not have been officially dead, but she certainly had no security clearance or whatever it was that was required to work at Thames House.

Oh Christ, Thames House! That was where Ben had taken her straight from Heathrow when he brought her to England! He had put her in an MI-5 interrogation room for Harry to come speak to her! She had been looked over by MI-5 doctors that day! And that townhouse Harry had gotten for her, that was a…a safehouse? Was that what they were called?

Ruth's head was swimming with the enormity of it all. She looked back down at her long list of questions and realized that Harry could not answer a single one of them. She wasn't allowed to know these things anymore. She wasn't who she once was. Harry had been right about that.

In a fit of pique, Ruth tore up the list and got up to flush it down the loo.

Why had she done that? Why was that her instinct and not to just toss it in the bin?

She sunk down and sat on the bathroom floor, leaning her head back against the cabinet and facing the toilet, staring at the bowl refilling with water after she'd flushed the pieces of her list. Perhaps her life in MI-5 was not as buried as she had thought.


	17. Chapter 17

Harry was happy that day. He arrived home early, as Adam and Ros had taken brilliant initiative in an operation and ended the threat earlier than anticipated. Harry had called the Home Secretary and said the report—written by Jo and to be signed by Harry—would arrive by the end of the week. And so Harry had gone home.

The house smelled of garlic and butter, making him smile. Scarlett trotted over to greet him at the door. "Ruth, I'm home," he called out. God, what a lovely thing to be able to say!

"Hello," came her simple reply.

There was something about her voice that gave him pause. He loosened his tie as he made his way into the kitchen. "Smells wonderful," he said, coming to see what she was making.

"Thank you. I hope you like shrimp scampi," she said.

"Ruth, is something wrong?" he asked. Her face was rather solemn and she spoke in a tone that seemed to indicate…defeat?

"No, nothing's wrong," she insisted. She still had not actually looked at him. She was busy stirring the shrimp so they didn't burn in the pan. "How was your day?" That question had left her lips with a distinct note of bitterness.

Harry answered her rather warily. "It was fine. Good, actually. I was able to get away early. I wanted to come home to see you. But how was your day?"

"Fine."

And that ended that. "I'll feed Scarlett unless you've done it already," he said quietly.

"No, I haven't had the chance."

Harry nodded and went about the task. As usual, Scarlett began scampering around in circles as he got her food bowl ready. Dogs were funny like that, so excited about the simplest things.

Ruth drained the pasta and poured the shrimp and sauce on top, mixed it up, and put servings on two plates. Harry washed his hands and carried his plate to the table. He and Ruth both sat down. Leopold hopped up to sit on her lap. He did that nearly every night. It had startled Ruth, at first, to have the cat so nearby. It startled Harry, as well, since he'd barely been able to get Leopold to come within three feet of him since the day he'd brought the cats home with him. But cats could be surprisingly intelligent and fiercely loyal. Clearly Leopold remembered Ruth even if she did not remember him.

Harry thought about that sometimes, watching her sit with her cats despite not knowing they were hers. Had it been like this before, in her little house with the stained-glass front door? Had Leopold sat on her lap while she ate? Had Fidget meowed loudly whenever she was in the bathroom? What other little quirks did those cats have that only Ruth would have known? Probably a million tiny details that may have been lost. It had been almost two months since she had returned with her amnesia. There was no sign that her memory would come back. All those little details might well and truly be lost forever.

He sighed aloud at the thought.

"Something wrong?" Ruth asked. She always did have a keen power of observation.

"Just thinking. If you haven't noticed yet, I have a tendency towards being a bit maudlin."

Her lips quirked into a hint of a smile at that. "I have noticed."

They both shared a look for just a moment before they went back to eating their dinner. Harry complimented her on the delicious food. She thanked him and was glad he was enjoying. They did not speak otherwise.

And in the current climate of their relationship—whatever that was—her quietness was a bit odd. Ruth of old was a nervous, quiet creature. Her mouth would run away with her when she was excited about something, but she otherwise kept very much to herself. This new Ruth, the one who shared Harry's home and bed, she was constantly enthused about something. Their evenings were often spent in conversation about what Ruth had done that day, what she'd read or watched on television, things she'd seen at the park with Scarlett. This dinner they were sharing without speaking, this was rather odd.

"Ruth, is everything alright?" he finally asked as they stood at the sink together to wash the dishes. "You've been a bit quiet tonight."

She paused drying the saucepan and searched his face. Eventually, she sighed. "I don't think I can talk about it."

That startled Harry a bit. He turned off the sink and dried his hands. "What's the matter, Ruth?"

"I was on the internet today…" she began.

Harry threw the dishrag down on the counter. "God dammit!" he swore.

"You didn't say I couldn't!" Ruth protested.

He breezed past that feeble excuse. "I've got a bloody password on my computer, Ruth, how did you get on the damn internet?"

She chewed on her lower lip anxiously. "I guessed your password."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "I changed it."

"I guessed the new one," Ruth confessed.

He scrubbed his face with his hands in exasperation. No use dwelling on that too much. "Alright, what did you look up this time?"

"You."

"Oh Christ." A shiver of dread went up Harry's spine as he realized that he would have to figure out what the hell to say to her about what she may have found when looking him up on the internet.

Ruth might have laughed at his reaction if this weren't the furthest thing from a laughing matter. "You work for MI-5." It was not a question. She knew the answer. But she needed him to confirm the truth.

"Yes."

"I worked for MI-5."

"Yes."

"And you can't tell me anything else or it would be treason."

"Yes."

She gave a small nod in slight satisfaction. "And that's why I've been quiet tonight."


	18. Chapter 18

They stared at each other in silence. Harry did not know what to do with this revelation, that Ruth had figured out the truth of their past. At least that one bit of trivia. Because her knowing that they had worked in MI-5 did not even scratch the surface of what they had shared, what they had done, what they had been to each other. MI-5 was really just the setting for everything that had occurred between them.

Ruth eventually broke the silence, going back to drying dishes. She always did that, kept her hands busy or fidgeting when she was a bit nervous. "Well, erm, since we can't really talk about your work at all…"

"No, we can't," he assured her swiftly.

She nodded, perfectly content to change the subject. To a rather important subject. "Harry, I've been thinking…"

"Yes?" He went back to washing the last few things as they spoke, hoping this conversation topic might be a bit less fraught than the last.

"I do understand that we can't talk about most things because of national security or whatever it is. And I…I accept that. I don't like it, but I understand. But why don't we ever talk about us? It seems like every time I bring it up, you change the subject."

Harry passed her the last dish and turned the sink off again. He turned and leaned against the edge of the counter and crossed his arms, carefully considering the answer to that question. "I'm not used to us talking. Particularly not talking about us," he eventually said.

She frowned at that. "Was it because of the job?"

"In a lot of ways, yes. I was your boss. I'm a lot older than you are. And we always had some sort of crisis facing us that was more important. But I think neither of us was ever good about talking about ourselves anyway, job aside."

"So why can't we talk about it now?" she pressed. "Whatever I was like before, I don't feel that same fear now. I want to talk about it. And we aren't on the job, you're home and you're here. I mean, my god, Harry, we sleep in the same bed every night and you told me you loved me and it's been two months and you won't even kiss me!"

He was taken aback by her little outburst. Ruth had never come close to shouting at him before. Certainly not about anything like this. "You…you want me to kiss you?"

Ruth blushed bright pink and bit her lip. Harry expected her to avert her eyes like she had done in the past, but she didn't this time. She just stood there, three feet away from him and mumbled a bit as she said, "Yes, of course I do."

"I didn't know," he replied honestly.

An incredulous look passed over her face. "Really? You haven't really responded to anything I've done that was at all affectionate, I just sort of assumed you weren't interested."

He sighed in slight annoyance. "Of course I'm interested, Ruth. My god, you've been the password on my computer for the last three years!"  
"I've only been gone two years."

"Yes, I know."

Ruth chewed on her lip again. "So why haven't you…"

"I didn't want to…to push you," Harry explained delicately. "You've been injured and with your memory and all, it wouldn't be right to take advantage."

"I suppose the chivalry makes sense for a knight of the realm."

He rolled his eyes at that. Obviously her internet search about him had revealed that very silly detail. He sighed again, softer this time. "If it bothered you, why didn't you do anything before?"

"A woman doesn't like to throw herself at a man who doesn't want her," she replied.

"I want you, Ruth," Harry told her quietly.

Her lovely full lips quirked into a small smile. "I want you, too, Harry."

Such a thing seemed impossible to believe. Even having her living in his house and sharing his bed for two months. With all her memories of their past taken away from her, Ruth somehow still wanted him. Why, he had no idea. But she did. She told him she did.

And there was nothing left for it, then. Harry took two steps forward and pulled her into his arms, one hand on her waist and one tangled in her hair and he kissed her.


	19. Chapter 19

Ruth had imagined for two months now what Harry's kiss might feel like. His lips were so full, in a permanent pout. She had watched him as he spoke sometimes, the way his mouth formed words, the way the syllables tripped over his tongue. Oh god, that tongue! It surged into her mouth, tangled with her tongue, made every bit of her body tingle and vibrate with pure passion. His hands held her tight, anchoring her face to his, pulling her hips flush against him. He pulled her bottom lip between his teeth and she whimpered in response.

"Oh god, Harry!" she moaned as his lips moved to her jawline and down her neck.

He growled against her skin. "Ruth, I…"

And then suddenly, he pulled away. He took a step back, breathing heavily. She blinked rapidly, trying to figure out what was happening. "Why…why did you stop?"

Harry chuckled at that. It was nice that she was eager. "We shouldn't move too fast," he explained. And that was true, that he did not want to move things too fast, but his mind had caught up to him. He'd nearly said _Ruth, I've missed you so much_. And that was true, but this wasn't the Ruth he missed. Not really. This wasn't his Ruth. She was Ruth, she was there, right there, and she'd asked him to kiss her. And she kissed like his Ruth. All his love and passion for her came flooding back, those two years apart just evaporated. But this wasn't fair to her. It wasn't fair to either of them, for Harry to kiss her or go any further when he was imagining her as someone else.

Scarlett whined and scratched the back door, jolting Ruth out of her lustful confusion. "I'll take her out," she offered, quickly hurrying past Harry to let the dog out.

He was left alone in the kitchen. He turned to lean over the counter with his hands gripping the edge as he tried to take some deep breaths. He'd lost control. He couldn't do that anymore. He needed to be better. For both their sakes.

"Harry, is everything alright?" Ruth asked, returning to the kitchen to find him looking quite distressed.

With a very slow exhale, he turned back to face her. "Yes, Ruth, everything's fine. I'm sorry."

She furrowed her brow at him in slight confusion. "Why are you sorry?"

"I just wish I could be better for you," he replied quietly with a sad little smile.

But her expression softened. "You're doing just fine, I promise."

He sighed. "Ruth, could I…"

"Yes?"

"Could I just hold you for a little while? Please?"

Ruth did not hesitate to rush into his arms. "Always," she replied, nuzzling against his neck as he wrapped his arms tight around her.

Harry just breathed in the smell of her hair and closed his eyes and focused on this feeling, the feeling of Ruth in his arms. His Ruth, new Ruth, what did it matter? It was Ruth, and she was here, and he loved her.


	20. Chapter 20

They cuddled a bit on the sofa after the kitchen was cleaned and shared some of Harry's scotch. And at bedtime, Ruth did not hesitate to kiss him goodnight properly.

But Harry was more measured this time. He kept his mind clear as they lay together in their pajamas under the sheets of their bed. He kissed her and held her but kept his hands still and did not allow himself to lose himself in her glory.

If Ruth noticed a change in the way he kissed her this time, she did not comment on it. She was smiling when they pulled apart and kissed him once more before nuzzling against his chest. She seemed to like doing that, getting snuggled up very close to him to fall asleep. And Harry very much liked it that way. Getting to hold her as her breathing changed and she let out quiet little snores. He found that he slept very well like this, keeping Ruth in the protection of his embrace and having the smell of her hair drift into his every breath.

That night, however, Harry did not fall asleep right away. His mind wandered as he held her. He recognized that they had crossed an important threshold with Ruth discovering the true nature of his work and then getting to kiss her properly for the first time in two years.

There would need to be boundaries, he knew, to keep her from asking questions about Five. He would certainly need to be more careful about what he said, lest she deduce anything from his scraps of information. After all, that was what Ruth had always done best. And with the way she'd cleverly figured out his computer passwords, Harry knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that all her brilliance was still at work despite her lack of memory.

What concerned him more, however, was trying to think of how to proceed with their romantic relationship. Harry knew his self-control and self-denial would only hold him back for so long. How he'd managed to go two months sharing his bed with her and not going any further yet was quite honestly a miracle. He was no monster, he would never just climb on top of a woman because she was lying in bed next to him. But this wasn't just any woman, this was _Ruth_. And that meant he wanted her even more. And that also meant he wanted to be able to do the right thing even more than that.

Harry shifted slightly to get more comfortable. He kissed Ruth's forehead before finally falling asleep himself.


	21. Chapter 21

Ruth woke up the next morning happier than she could remember. Though, to be fair, that wasn't saying much, since she could only remember the last two months. She rolled over and stretched and grinned.

"You look happy."

She sat up to see Harry standing in front of the mirror to tie his tie before work. "I am happy," Ruth told him. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Harry chose not to answer that. "I might be late tonight," he told her. "Don't count on me for dinner."

Ruth yawned before answering. "That's fine. I'll be here when you make it in."

He chuckled. "Go back to sleep. I've got to go. I'll see you later."

"Kiss me before you go," she requested, reaching her arms out to him.

Harry grinned and crossed the room toward her to lean down for a kiss. He intended just a quick peck, maybe a lingering press of their lips together. Ruth had other ideas. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him on top of her. Her mouth moved on his with reckless abandon and her tongue surged into his mouth. Harry was taken by surprise and failed to properly build up his resolve. He groaned against her and kissed her back hungrily. His body covered hers, but thanks to the bedsheets, his hands couldn't maneuver their way to her skin. And as he struggled, a shill ringing echoed through the room.

He ripped himself off of her, breathing heavily. "Pearce," he barked upon fishing his mobile out of his jacket pocket. He took a seat on the edge of the bed to listen while Adam gave him an update on the operation.

Ruth, however, did not allow the interruption to stop her. She got up on her knees behind Harry and put her arms over his shoulders as she kissed the side of his neck and began nibbling his free earlobe.

"Oh god," he breathed.

"What was that?" Adam asked, confused by that response.

Harry quickly jerked out of Ruth's amorous grasp and stood up so he was out of her reach. "Nothing, sorry. I'm leaving the house now, I'll be in soon." He hung up and turned back to Ruth with a frustrated sigh. "That was very naughty of you." Perhaps a bit too suggestive of terminology, but it fit the situation.

She bit her lip and giggled. She actually giggled! Like some silly girl! Oh, Jesus wept.

"Ruth, I've got to go to work," he told her.

"I know, I'm sorry. I just…we've made so much progress. I didn't want it to all go away."

"It won't go away," he said gently. "But I do need to go."

"Yes, go save the world," she answered flippantly.

Harry did not quite like that attitude, but the woman had just kissed the life out of him, so what was he to do? This wasn't like Ruth at all. His Ruth would have never done anything like this. But perhaps that was the point. His Ruth hadn't wanted him. Not like this. Here and now, this Ruth wanted to be in his bed and wanted him to kiss her. Christ, this Ruth _wanted _him, period.

Ruth gave a stiff, polite smile. "I'll see you later."

"Right. Good." Harry turned on his heel and hurried down the stairs and out the door to his car.


	22. Chapter 22

Harry was gone all day and all night. And through all of it, Ruth was alone with her thoughts. Her cruel, doubting thoughts.

Why was it that whatever she did, whatever progress she thought she was making, it seemed to be wrong? Harry told her he wanted her. He kissed her like he wanted her. And then nothing more. He pulled away. He stopped her from moving things along. He hurried off to work to escape her.

What on earth had happened in their past to cause such reticence from him? Harry did not seem the kind of man to be nervous or shy about sex, but what if he was? What if there was something Ruth had once known about him that she now could not remember? And the man didn't bloody _talk_! How was she supposed to get to know him now if he would not tell her anything?

It was all just so frustrating, so depressing. Ruth spent that day going on a very long walk with Scarlett through the park. The weather was nice, so there were mothers with children and other people walking dogs and young people playing games. All around her there was happiness and love. And Ruth had hoped that she and Harry had a little bit of that for themselves. Maybe she was wrong.

And of course, that also left her with the crushing realization that if Harry did not love her and did not want her, she had nowhere else to go. What was she to do if she did not have him? She had no money of her own. She could probably get a job somewhere doing something simple. But her entire past had been erased from her mind. And until three weeks ago, she'd been dead! How could she possibly explain to anyone who even just looked up her name on the internet that she was that same Ruth Evershed whose body had been fished out of the Thames two years before?

She ate leftovers alone at the kitchen table and listened to Radio 4 to keep her company. But the words of the newscasters just washed over her as she tried not to pay too close attention. After all, current events just left her confused and upset; there was so much going on in the world with which she had no familiarity or understanding. And Harry wouldn't answer her questions.

Feeling utterly rotten, Ruth cleaned the kitchen, took care of the animals, and went up to bed early. Harry had said he'd be home late, so she would not bother waiting for him. Assuming he came home at all. At that precise moment, Ruth couldn't help but think that it wouldn't surprise her if Harry wanted to stay at work and avoid her for as long as he could.


	23. Chapter 23

Harry finally walked in the front door at three in the morning. That operation had been a complete mess, thanks to faulty intelligence. Ros and Adam were at odds again, and Harry wanted no part of their personal drama. Ben had been injured and Jo lost focus being worried over him. Everyone seemed to have relationship woes, Harry included. All he wanted now was to have a bit of scotch to calm down and crawl into bed to wrap himself around Ruth.

Her behavior while he was getting ready for work was exactly the kind of thing he had hoped to avoid. What was she thinking, trying to seduce him while he was working?! Well, not exactly working, but Christ, she'd bit his earlobe while he was on the phone with Adam! Granted, she had no real idea what he was working on. But she knew he worked with Five now. She knew the work was serious and important. And she was letting her libido take precedence.

Well that was another problem altogether. She was throwing herself at him and he could not understand it for the life of him. Why would a beautiful young woman like Ruth want a fat old man like Harry? It boggled the mind to imagine. It was one thing, those years ago, when they had grown together, when their relationship had grown from perhaps a slight initial attraction to so, so much more. What they had now—on Ruth's side, at least—was entirely different. Could it be that she only wanted him because he was the only person around? Did she just want to have sex with someone and Harry was the only man available? Or, perish the thought, did she have some sort of victim/savior complex developing where she felt indebted to him for rescuing her in her fog of amnesia and giving her somewhere to stay? It had to be one of those things, because no woman in her right mind would want him otherwise. Though, to be fair, Ruth might not be in her right mind; the amnesia might be part of further brain damage.

Harry poured a glass of scotch and drank it down in two large gulps. He gave Scarlett a little scratch before sending her back to bed and then climbed up the stairs to go to bed.


	24. Chapter 24

Ruth was awakened by Harry's touch when he got into bed. She had no idea what time it was, but it seemed like it was very late. She nearly rolled over to greet him properly, to kiss him and apologize for upsetting him that morning, but she stopped herself. She did turn over, though, but it was away from him.

Harry had meant to pull Ruth into his arms and kiss her gently and fall asleep while he held her, but the way she turned away from him just then gave him pause. She was not asleep, he knew. He'd been sleeping beside her for two months now, he knew what she was like when she was asleep. And he also knew what she was like when she was pretending to be asleep. This was certainly the latter.

Well, if that's how she wanted it, Harry would not pressure her in any way. After all, that's what started all this mess to begin with. He whispered, "Goodnight, Ruth," and settled himself into bed. He closed his eyes, but Harry could feel that sleep would likely elude him this night. This operation was an unending nightmare and now home wasn't too much better. There was no escape to his troubles, it seemed, but Harry had not come to expect much else in life.

Ruth was lying very still, trying to sense what Harry was doing without being able to look at him or let him know that she was awake. She did not like what she had done just then, to rebuff him, however subtly it was. She had only wanted to be closer to him, but now she pushed him away. Why did she do that? Why didn't she want to let him try to make it up to her after their rather awkward morning? Wasn't he just trying to be better? Wasn't that what he'd said the night before when he apologized for not being better for her? At the time, she had not really understood what he meant. It seemed to Ruth that she should be the one trying to be better for him.


	25. Chapter 25

The days passed slowly for Ruth after that. Harry was only home for about four hours to get a bit of sleep before his mobile rang to summon him back to Thames House. He did not tell her what was going on and she knew better than to ask. He would kiss her cheek before getting out of bed as he apologized for waking her and just saying he did not know when he would be home.

She took longer walks around the neighborhood during the days, sometimes with Scarlett and sometimes by herself. She had hoped, initially, that something might spark a memory. Something, anything, to remind her of who she was. But it was a futile effort. Everything was bright and new to her eyes. It might have been exciting, under other circumstances. But certainly not for Ruth, not now.

The loneliness that had crept in at Harry's rebuff of her advances was all-consuming now. He wasn't around for her to ask him what she could do to make it up to him. He wasn't around for anything at all. The only solace Ruth had was in the way he crawled into bed to hold her and sighed with relief each and every time. Something about her presence was a comfort to him, and that would just have to be enough for now.

Only it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough because she didn't understand why he should need her comfort and why it was so bloody impossible for him to say anything to her. If only he could just sit still for a moment and be honest with her! He had done just that in those brief moments they'd talked when she'd first arrived in London with Ben.

The reminder of Ben made her pause. Would he be able to help her? Probably not. He hadn't known her before, back when she and Harry had known one another. But even so, Ben had been kind to her and now that she wasn't battered and bruised and stitched and plastered from her injuries anymore, she would have liked to thank him for everything he'd done to bring her home. Well, as far as she knew of home.

But Ben worked with Harry. And if Harry was this busy, Ben was probably just as busy. And Ben probably wasn't allowed to speak with her now. She was all alone and there was nothing for it.

Suddenly, for the first time in all the time Ruth had been living in the house, Harry arrived home in the middle of the afternoon. "What are you doing?" she blurted upon seeing him open the front door, put down his things, and come into the sitting room.

"Well this is my house, so when I'm not working, I tend to come here. Is that alright?" he replied snidely.

"Yes, sorry," she mumbled in response.

Harry's whole body slumped in defeat. "I've been working round the clock for nine days, Ruth. I'm exhausted, and I don't want to fight with you. I'm sorry for being snotty."

She reached out to have him join her on the sofa. "You just surprised me, that's all. Please, come sit with me and relax," she offered gently.

He accepted that offer. He kicked his shoes off under the coffee table and rested his head on the back of the sofa. After a moment, he opened his arms for her to come snuggle against him. "I've missed you very much," he told her quietly.

Ruth rested her head on his chest and let him fold her in his embrace. "I've missed you, too."


	26. Chapter 26

They spent a lovely day and evening together, cuddling close and having a bottle of wine and playing with the animals and watching a film. Ruth cooked a simple meal for them, not wanting to spend too much time in the kitchen. She knew now that she had limited time to spend with Harry, so she did not want to waste it.

But Harry was exhausted. She knew he hadn't gotten much sleep lately, and she caught him yawning a time or two. More than that, though, he was just quiet and withdrawn. He tried to smile whenever he caught her eye, something she did appreciate. And as much as she wanted to press him about their relationship and everything else, she did not want to cause a fuss.

"I haven't kissed you in almost a week," she noted as he washed the dinner dishes. It was extremely sweet that he always insisted on doing that. If Harry was home for dinner, he would always clear the table and wash the dishes after Ruth cooked. She wouldn't have felt like she was waiting on him if he didn't do it, but the fact that he was so adamant about helping her and ensuring that she did not ever feel like she was just a cook and maid for him was greatly appreciated. And there was something about this domestic act of washing dishes together that seemed to always prompt a perfect opportunity for quiet honesty between them.

Harry finished up rinsing the last spatula and turned off the sink. He turned to Ruth while she rather nonchalantly dried the last of the dishes. "Is that so?" he asked with a small grin.

"Yes, well, you've been busy so much, we've not really been awake at the same time in a while. And as I said, I've missed you."

Her earnestness tore at his heartstrings. She was an absolute marvel, she really was. Everything about her. Christ, he loved her so much. It was all he could do to keep from just pulling her into his arms and kissing her and loving her and burning the whole world to the ground just to keep her with him always. But Ruth had never liked his impetuous nature and she would not appreciate any foolish, romantic sacrifice on her behalf. At least, the old Ruth wouldn't have. This Ruth, he wasn't so sure. After all, she had missed him.

Ruth turned to put away the spatula and when she turned back, Harry was right there for her to run into his chest. "Oh!" she exclaimed in surprise. That man had the feet of a cat! Must have been all those years sneaking around as a spook.

"It's been nearly a week since you kissed me. And nearly a week since I've kissed you properly. And I have missed you very much. So how about we rectify the situation?" he asked in a husky tone. His arms snaked around her waist to pull her closer to him.

Before she knew it, Harry had turned them both and pinned her up against the counter and kissed her hard. She moaned into his mouth, desperate to feel the passion of his kiss again. She had longed for this. She had yearned for him, had wanted nothing more than for him to want her. And she felt it now. She felt how he wanted her. Ruth rolled her hips against his as she ran her fingers through his soft, sparse hair, causing him to groan. And she reveled in it, the erotic power of being with this man she adored and knowing that he wanted her just as much.


	27. Chapter 27

"Take me to bed, Harry," Ruth moaned, pulling away just enough to catch her breath. To punctuate her request, she hitched her leg up over behind his, pulling him in between her thighs.

Harry fumbled with her skirt to move his hand up to feel her bare skin. His fingers dug into her flesh and held her thigh at his hip. It would only take a few movements to divest their offending clothing and sink himself into her warmth, but self-control and self-denial won the day. He ripped his lips from hers. "An early night, I think. Let's put the animals to bed and then I'll kiss you till we pass out from exhaustion," he told her.

A shiver of arousal passed through her. She nodded. They continued to hold each other for a moment as racing hearts quieted. Eventually, she stood back on her own two feet and Harry stepped back from her. Ruth was a bit wobbly as she set out the water for the animals and Harry took Scarlett out to the yard to do her business before bed. Leopold began weaving himself around Ruth's ankles and butting his head against her leg.

"That cat adores you," Harry noted as he came back inside.

Ruth smiled. "I though you said he wasn't very affectionate."

"He's never been with me. I guess you're special. Though I might be projecting because I think you're very special, and Leopold would be mad not to love you."

There was an unspoken 'I love you' hidden in that which made Ruth feel warm all over. She did not press him, however, because any more serious discussion of feelings or truths or memories would simply ruin the mood. And Ruth so desperately wanted to maintain their mood.

Harry took her hand, then, and led her upstairs to their room. Funny how that had happened, how after two years of not seeing each other and only sharing a single dinner date before that, that Harry had found himself living with Ruth and sharing a bedroom with her. He shared everything with her in this new life they'd created for themselves. He'd have never believed it if anyone had told him this was how things might end up. But he was ever so glad they did.

Ruth readied herself for bed as usual, though she very purposefully put on the silky nightdress she'd been saving for just this occasion. Usually, she wore pajama pants and an old shirt of Harry's to sleep in. He would wear his trunks and another of his shirts. But tonight was different, and Ruth wanted to make it a bit special.

As she got ready for bed, Harry noticed the different way in which she was dressed. She emerged from the bathroom in a nightgown of cream-colored silk and trimmed in a little bit of lace. It was low cut and short, only coming down about mid-thigh. His eyes traced every inch of her exposed skin as she got into bed. Harry still needed to brush his teeth before getting into bed himself, but he could not stop looking at her.

"You're so beautiful," he said quietly.

Ruth smiled brightly. "That's very nice of you to say."

Harry gave a quick little grin before hurrying into the bathroom. Self-control, self-denial. First, brush teeth. Then, showing Ruth how beautiful he found her.


	28. Chapter 28

Ruth waited for Harry to get into bed with her. He turned out the light and rolled over to pull her in his arms. They were kissing passionately again before they knew it. Her fingernails scratched over his scalp, his hands wandered her silk-clad body. One of her bare legs hooked around his hip again, pulling them flush against each other. Harry's body responded to hers very quickly.

"Please, Harry," she begged, her words muffled against his mouth.

He did not answer her. He only continued to kiss her and hold her, all while subtly trying to keep her still. Keeping control was much more difficult when she wiggled around like that.

"Harry," Ruth whined. She tried to flip them over and get on top of him, and eventually he relented, allowing her to push him on his back and straddle his hips.

There was nothing he could do to dissuade her, or if there was, he did not want to try. God, this woman! Harry's hands traveled up her creamy thighs and underneath her nightgown to feel the soft skin of her back as he held her against him.

But then she started moving her hips and grinding herself against him, and it was nearly more than he could take. Nearly.

Harry was finally able to gather his strength to push her off him. Ruth fell back on the bed and looked at him, a mixture of surprise and offense on her face. "What's wrong?"

He was breathing heavily, trying to quell his thundering heart and raging erection. "Not tonight, Ruth, please," he pleaded.

"Why not?" Her face was blushing bright red. Embarrassment? Anger? Perhaps both?

"Darling, I'm so tired. I can hardly move."

A teasing smile crossed her face. "You wouldn't have to move much if you lie right there…"

Harry did chuckle at that. "I wouldn't want it to be like that. I want to be able to do things properly, and I just can't tonight. I'm sorry."

She sighed and settled back down in bed. "Don't be sorry, Harry. I should be sorry for throwing myself at you."

"No, please don't apologize for that. I can't tell you how incredible it is that you want me," he confessed.

Ruth looked at him curiously. "Didn't I want you before?"

"Not like this."

"I must have been insane."

Harry shifted closer to her and reached out to stroke her hair. "Not insane. Never insane. Just a bit different."

"I can't help but think I must not have been very happy back then, based on what you've told me."

"No, I don't think you were. Neither of us was, actually."

"But I'm happy now. Are you happy, Harry?"

He smiled. "I have never been happier than I am to have you in my arms like this."

"Will you kiss me some more, or are you too tired?"

"Well, I think I did promise to kiss you till with both pass out with exhaustion. And I have the day off tomorrow, so we can wake up and pick up where we left off."

Ruth grinned happily. "That sounds wonderful."


	29. Chapter 29

They fell asleep wrapped up in each other. And since Harry had the day off, he had not set the alarm for the next morning. They were both able to sleep all the way through the night.

Harry woke first, as he always did, and reveled in the privilege of getting to watch her. Her nightgown had tangled a bit during the night and was now bunched up at her waist. Harry could only see because Ruth had pushed the covers down as she slept. He stared at the creaminess of the skin exposed at her midriff and the parts of her chest exposed by the low-cut lacy nightgown. The pale silk was so thin that he could practically see through it to her perfect pert breasts. Everything about her was so beautiful. He still could not get over this, that he had her here in his bed, finally, after so long of wanting her and missing her.

He couldn't resist, then. He leaned in and gently kissed her lips and eased her awake. Ruth made a little noise and he pulled back to watch her eyes flutter open. She looked up at him and smiled brightly. Oh how marvelous that was, that she should look at him with such unrestrained joy!

Ruth shifted where she lay and lifted her arms to wrap around her neck. She pulled Harry back in for a proper kiss.

Things progressed very quickly from there. Harry was poised on top of her, she cradled him in her thighs, her heat scorching him beneath the sheets of their bed. Her tongue and his tangled together. He kissed down her neck, reveling in the way she breathed his name. His fingers found the straps of her nightgown intent on pushing them down so he could continue down her body without any barrier.

And then the phone rang.


	30. Chapter 30

Harry climbed off her as soon as his mobile sounded. He was breathing heavily, trying desperately to calm himself down.

"No, don't answer it, just turn it off," she whined, reaching out for him.

He looked at her in slight annoyance. "I can't turn it off, Ruth. I've got to answer it."

She flopped back against the bed with a huff and lay there pouting as Harry took the call. "Pearce," he barked, hoping that an overly aggressive tone might lead to a quick resolution and hide the fact that his mind was not anywhere close to being on what anyone else was saying.

"Sorry to bother you on your day off, Harry."

"What is it, Ben?" he asked, in no mood for insincere apologies.

Ben proceeded to tell him the current status of their operation. Things were progressing much faster than anyone anticipated. Harry's day off was well and truly gone.

As soon as he hung up, he put his phone aside and sighed. "I'm sorry, Ruth, I've got to go into work."

"Stay here with me, Harry," she pleaded. Her fingers caught the edge of his shirt and tugged on it. "Pretend you're sick. Call back and say you can't go in."

He turned to face her. "Ruth, you know the work I do. You know I can't just call in sick!"

She groaned in frustration. "Why not? Surely someone else can fill in for a day?"

And that was the moment when all his self-control and self-denial left him. He stood up and practically exploded in rage. "How can you possibly say that!? After everything we've gone through, you would have never even thought to say something like that. You are not the Ruth I knew, you are not the woman I loved, you are not anyone I know! My Ruth understood the importance of my work. Christ, my Ruth ran to the ends of the earth and faked her death to make sure that I would stay out of prison and I would remain in my job where I could continue my work! And you…you don't understand! You could never understand! You aren't the same person!"

Ruth lay in bed in utter shock. Before she had a chance to respond, Harry stood up and went into the bathroom and slammed the door shut.


	31. Chapter 31

Harry leaned over the sink and closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths. He'd tried so hard to ignore and deny it. He'd wanted so much to not notice. But he couldn't. He couldn't pretend like she was the same. Because she wasn't. She wasn't the same person. God, he loved her so much but there was so much missing. And did he even love her? Or did he still just love his Ruth, the one who had left him that day on the docks? This Ruth in his bed was, in so many ways, a pale imitation.

But he had more important things to worry about now. In the grand scheme of things, at least. For what did it matter if Harry Pearce felt his heart shattering in his chest? Al Qaeda was well on its way to purchasing a dirty bomb and it was up to his team to stop it. His personal drama would have to wait.

As quick as he could, Harry splashed some cold water on his face and brushed his teeth. He'd have coffee on the Grid, there wasn't time for anything else.

When Harry came out of the bathroom, Ruth was sitting on the edge of the bed looking quite contrite. He went to his wardrobe and dressed in one of his suits without a single word to her.

"I like that tie," she said softly, watching him in the reflection of the mirror as he tied the purple patterned silk.

Harry exhaled a puff of air in amusement. Ruth had told him before that she liked this tie, many years ago. It was his favorite tie for that very reason.

"I am sorry," she said, trying again to get him to say something to her. She honestly felt like she might throw up. The guilt of her mistake was nearly overpowering. And it was a mistake. A mistake to press her advantage on him, to be so wanton and needy, to belittle things that were more important. Because who was she in relation to Harry's work? He had more important things to do than her.

As soon as he put on his jacket, Harry turned to face her. "We can talk about this later. We…we probably should talk about this later. I'll be home as soon as I can."

Ruth just nodded. There was no way of knowing if 'as soon as I can' for Harry meant later that afternoon or in two days. "If I'm not here, it's because I'm walking the dog."

Harry gave her a single curt nod and walked out of the room.


	32. Chapter 32

It was actually much sooner than expected that Harry returned home that day. Ruth had just gotten back from walking Scarlett. She'd done so later in the day than usual, since she actually spent an embarrassingly long time lying in bed and crying with her guilt, disappointment, and frustration. And as she'd walked the dog that afternoon, her frustration increased. It built up and up and all the way into a sort of hysterical anger.

The front door opened and Ruth got up from the sofa to greet Harry at the door. "Nice of you to come home. Is it a more convenient time for you to emotionally punish me again?"

Harry was on the back foot immediately. He'd been very justified in his comments from that morning, as much as it hurt him to make them, and now this? "What are you talking about?!"

"If you want me to leave, you should just say so," she said, barreling right on. "I appreciate everything you've done for me, but I don't have to stay here if you'd rather I didn't. Obviously my presence is a constant burden for you."

"I never said that," he defended.

"You never say much of anything!" she shouted.

And that was when Harry's own anger took over. "You know why I don't say much of anything, Ruth? Because it would be treason if I did. Actual 'off with his head' treason. But no matter how many times I tell you that, you just won't accept it. You have to keep pushing, putting your nose in where it doesn't belong. It's always the same with you!"

"See, that's just it!" she cried. "I don't know what the bloody hell that means! Why is it always the same with me? What did I do before that makes you say I always push my nose where it doesn't belong? Harry, why don't you just explain something!? Anything!"

"Because I never used to have to explain!" he shouted. His heart was thundering in his chest and he was breathing heavily with the emotion of it. He put his hand on the wall and leaned against it, trying to calm down. She was waiting for him to continue, and he would. He would this time. "You and I…it was so easy. I don't think I ever realized that at the time, but we had a connection between us. We…we understood each other. We worked so closely together. You learned how I thought. I learned how you worked. We worked so well together, Ruth. We got to the point where we would finish each other's sentences. We never had to even speak sometimes. The both of us, we just _knew_."

"And is that why you loved me?" she asked quietly, fearing his answer.

He considered the question before he responded. "No, that wasn't why. That was part of it, of course, but that wasn't why. It was the whole of you, Ruth. The dedication you had to the work. The moral compass you provided for me and everyone else. The kindness you always displayed even when the rest of the world would have turned their backs. The loveliness of your eyes and your lips and your hair. The way your brain would move faster than your mouth and make you all tongue-tied. The utter strength you possessed. There were so many times that I was convinced you would break and falter and fall. But you never did. You were afraid, and you weren't afraid of that. If that makes any sense. You were vulnerable and strong. And I'd never met anyone with that sort of quality before. And for all of that, I have missed you since the moment you left."

Ruth swallowed hard, trying not to cry. A part of her felt like she was still so many of those things he described. But perhaps he just did not see it anymore. "Harry, why don't you want me?" He opened his mouth to protest but she would not let him. "Not the me I used to be. But _me_. Whatever we had before is gone, but I'm here now. And I'm real. And I'm not just in your memories anymore. Why do you insist on missing me when I'm right here?"

That tone of her voice, the way she wavered and even cracked with emotion as she practically begged him was breaking his heart all over again. It took him a moment to find the words to reply. "I have loved you for so long, Ruth. For so long, and I scared you away, and then you left to save me, and that sacrifice…the sacrifice we both made, that was all I had. To know that you cared for me enough to do that. That was all I had. And I don't know what to do without only having that to cling to."

Two tears fell down her cheek as she crossed the foyer to him. She placed a gentle hand on his arms and murmured, "You're allowed to love me, Harry. Talk to me and have a life with me and be with me. And I want to be better for you and to not upset you anymore. But just…please just love me."


	33. Chapter 33

Harry practically crumpled under the weight of her plea. This wonderful woman who had lost everything, including her whole self, who had no reason to know him, had found it in her heart to trust him and to love him. And all she asked in return was his presence and love for her. None of those things he needed to manufacture.

Over the last two months he had learned her all over again and she had proven herself to be just as miraculous as before. Yes, she was different without the benefit of her past experiences to make her afraid. Yes, she did not fully understand the world he inhabited which no longer had any place for her. But hadn't he told her that he did not love her because of their shared work? He loved her for who she was and all that he made her feel. And that had not changed. If anything, it had only grown.

Ruth had lived in his house for two and a half months now. They had built a little life together, just as Harry had just started to realize he wanted before she was ripped away from him by forces outside their control. And perhaps he could never see her on the Grid ever again, but he had her _here_. She was waiting for him to come home, waiting for him to join her in bed, waiting to have dinner with him and discuss the most mundane aspects of life. It was a life they shared, and he wouldn't give it up for anything.

"Ruth, I'm so sorry," he said.

She took a sharp breath and her tears came faster now. It was then that Harry understood what she thought he meant.

"No, not about loving you." He pulled her into his arms. "I will never be sorry for loving you. And I do. I do love you. I'm sorry for yelling and getting cross at you for things you have no reason to understand now. And I'm just sorry I haven't been able to find a way to properly show you how important you are to me."

Ruth clung to him as though she'd never let him go, still crying.

"I love you, Ruth. I love you and I want you. And that will never change," he murmured, pressing soothing kisses to her hair.

She lifted her head to search his face. "Maybe you should show me. Upstairs," she suggested, a little watery smile playing on her lips.


	34. Chapter 34

Harry was flung into a memory at her words. _Maybe you should show me. Upstairs._ He'd heard her say those words before. He'd heard her say those words and mean just the same thing before. And as he held her there in the foyer of his house, Harry recalled the first time she had come to his house with him. The first time she'd said those words, more than two years before.

They had finished their wine after dinner. White burgundy and thermobaric bombs. Quite the species. Harry had his driver pick them up and asked if she'd like to come back to his for a nightcap. "Mike will drive you home after," he'd told her, hoping she would not take his advances badly. She was so skittish, so nervous all through dinner. He'd wanted so much for her to feel comfortable with him. There had been moments when they'd shared a smile and he had thought they were perhaps making some headway. She just looked so lovely all done up for their dinner. The very thought that she had clearly put in so much effort to go out with him had absolutely melted his heart.

The drive to Harry's had been quiet. Ruth had seemed very nervous so Harry put a gentle hand on top of hers. She looked at him and gave a soft smile before lacing her fingers in with his. He thought his heart might beat right out of his chest. Strange how such a simple act had affected him so. After years of relationships with women that were full of adrenaline and eroticism, the sweetness of just holding Ruth's hand was enough to bring him to his knees.

She held his hand as they walked up to the front door of the house after Mike had parked and Harry had opened the car door for her. She only let go of his hand so he could unlock the door and set the security system. He introduced her to Scarlett, who came trotting up with a merrily wagging tail. Ruth and Scarlett had taken to each other right away. When they sat on the sofa to share some scotch, Scarlett practically ignored Harry in favor of sitting on Ruth's lap. Ruth scratched Scarlett's ears with one hand and sipped her scotch with the other.

"Your house is very nice," she said somewhat awkwardly.

"Thank you. Every time I have to move, I just have a decorator put some paint on the walls and put my furniture wherever he or she thinks it should be. I'm not here much. And I do move every few years," he replied.

"How long had you lived in the last place before you got this one?" she asked.

Harry had to think about that one. "Three years, I think. And you know, of course, I've only been here just over a year."

Ruth nodded. She knew that he had to move house after the Firestorm debacle when those bloody kids had broken into his house and stolen the briefcase out of his safe.

"That house of yours, did you get it when you left GCHQ?" Harry asked, trying to make conversation to keep them both from getting too nervous. Though having Scarlett there seemed to be helping Ruth.

"Yes, I used almost my whole savings to get it as soon as I got to London. The price was good, actually, because it had been on the market a long time. It wasn't in the best condition when it was being sold, but the owner had died and the estate did not want to waste the money fixing it up."

"But you like it that way, don't you?" Harry interjected knowingly.

Ruth chuckled and blushed. "Yes, actually, I do."

He nodded, drinking down the last of his scotch. "I've noticed that about you," he said. "You have a very interesting affection for things that are a bit broken."

"Do I?"

"I think so. I think it's part of why you're so kind. That empathy of yours, that moral goodness."

"It annoys you," she noted.

Harry laughed lightly. "It does, sometimes. But I've grown to appreciate it more and more."

"Oh?"

"It makes you infinitely more interesting than nearly anyone else I've ever met. And it gives you a sort of superpower in our work. And, if I'm not mistaken, it's what made you agree to go to dinner with me tonight."

Ruth let his words settle between them as she finished her own drink. "That's part of it."

"And what's the rest of it?" He was entering dangerous territory now, and he needed to tread carefully.

But Ruth looked him right in the eyes and said, "I like being with you, and I wanted to do that outside of Thames House and outside of a national crisis. I wanted to see what it would be like."

"And?"

"I still like you."

They gazed into each other's eyes. The air between them was palpable. Harry was the first one to break the silence. "Scarlett, go to bed," he said sternly.

The little dog hopped off Ruth's lap and hurried down the hall. Ruth watched her till she was out of sight. "She's very well trained."

"Yes, I'm quite proud of her, actually."

"But why did you tell her to go?"

Harry leaned in a bit closer. "Because I'd very much like to kiss you, and I didn't think we needed to have an audience."

It was Ruth who closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to his and wrapping her arms around his neck.


	35. Chapter 35

They ended up sprawled on the sofa for quite some time, kissing and caressing each other. Harry was practically killing himself to try to take it slow, to not push her. But her kiss was absolutely intoxicating. She was just as good at it as he'd imagined. Those lips of hers moved against his in a way that made him lose his mind. And her tongue and her teasing teeth and the feel of her hands, it was all more than he could have ever hoped for.

She started to kiss down his neck, nipping at his pulse point. Harry thought he might have a stroke. "God, Ruth," he gasped. "You have no idea how much I want you."

Ruth pulled away and looked up at him with dark, shining eyes. "Maybe you should show me. Upstairs."

Never in his life had such simple words affected him so deeply. Thank god he'd just gotten his yearly mandated physical exam and learned his heart was in good shape or he would have thought he was in danger of a coronary.

Harry forced himself to get off of her and helped her stand up. Without another word, he took her hand and led her upstairs to his bedroom.

From there, things progressed very quickly. Ruth was not shy at all, which surprised him. But she did not take the lead on anything. That was something he had anticipated. But with each kiss and each article of clothing removed and each place his hands explored, she was a very enthusiastic participant. By the time he had laid her down naked on his bed, he was out of his mind with lust.

The rest of the night was something of a blur. The way her fingernails dug into his scalp while his mouth was on her breasts. The way she squirmed and gasped when his fingers traveled between her legs. The way her legs wrapped around him while he thrust madly inside her. The way she traced patterns on his sweaty back when he collapsed on top of her. The way they dozed off wrapped up in each other.

That next morning, Harry had gotten Mike to drop Ruth off at home so she could change her clothes and take care of her cats. And then they'd been caught up with that damn thermobaric bomb for nearly twenty-four hours. By the time they'd had a moment to speak alone, she'd already been suffering from Malcolm's nosiness and the gossiping of her colleagues. And she had told him that people were laughing at them. And she could not go to dinner with him again.

Harry wished that the rest of that could have been a blur to him as well. But he could not get a single minute of it out of his head. Havensworth, Cotterdam, the lot of it. For two years, he had one night and a million missed opportunities to fixate on.

But now she was back. She was in his arms. And she was asking him to show her how much he wanted her. _Upstairs_.


	36. Chapter 36

**Author's Note: rated M**

Ruth was practically giddy as Harry wasted no time taking her hand and leading her up the stairs. "Scarlett, go to bed!" he said sharply, keeping the little dog from following. The cats were both curled up on the sofa and paid no mind to the drama unfolding in the foyer.

For the first time, Harry was actually taking charge and leading her toward where they both wanted to be. She had not liked making advances to him, particularly when they were unreciprocated, but she did not know how else to convey her feelings for him. But she knew now that he felt just as strongly as she did. Actually, Harry felt so much more strongly, for he had their whole history to draw upon; all Ruth had was the last two months.

Two bloody months of dancing around each other, suffering through the recovery from her injuries and the slow realization that she was stuck this way. And Harry loved her anyway! She was over the moon with joy over finally knowing that for sure.

As soon as they got to the bedroom, Harry kicked the door closed behind them and practically tossed her onto the bed. He climbed on top of her and kissed her deeply. He had never quite kissed her like that before. Only that night in the kitchen, when he'd lost his control and forced himself to regain it before he could shag her against the countertop. She knew that's what had almost happened, and at the time, she hadn't known why he'd stopped it. But now, though, now he kissed and caressed her with wild abandon. Ruth's heart raced with excitement and arousal, and she was thankful that Harry began kissing and nipping down her neck just so that she could take big gulps of air. He sucked hard on her pulse point and Ruth let out a whine of his name.

Harry could not get enough of her. The dam had broken and he could not have stopped himself unless she told him too. He loved her. He wanted her. He needed her. And he'd have her. It had been more than two years since she'd last been naked in his bed, and this time he wanted to savor every single bit of her. They'd spend this night—Christ it wasn't even night, it was four in the afternoon! But they'd spend however long he could manage replacing every memory she'd lost and giving him enough to sustain them for a lifetime. He had not thought the last time would be the only time, but if this were his only repeat performance, he'd need to make it count.

He moved down her body and undressed her as he went, pulling her soft jumper over her head, skimming his hands down her lithe form and massaging her breasts before unhooking her bra. Ruth buried her fingers in his sparse hair and dug her nails in as his teeth grazed over a tightly furled nipple. She'd done that before, he recalled distantly. But he could not think of before, there was only here and now.

Onward he moved, down her body, having to get off the bed so he could pull her socks and trousers off. But before he could get to her knickers, Ruth pushed herself to a seated position and grabbed at his belt.

"Take your shirt off," she instructed, breathing heavily.

Harry fumbled with his tie and the buttons of the shirt as she pushed his trousers off his hips and undid buttons from the bottom up. They met in the middle and she pushed the shirt aside. He was glad he'd forgone the vest that morning in his rush to get dressed, for now Ruth could press wet open-mouthed kisses to his belly. Not his most attractive feature, to be sure, but she showered every inch of his bare skin that she could reach with her affection.

"Oh I love you, Harry," she said against his body.

He wanted to say something in response, but then she pushed his trunks down and took his cock in her hand and stroked him with a skill that made him nearly black out. She leaned forward ever so slightly and took the tip of him into her mouth.

Harry indulged for only a minute, not trusting himself to allow any more. But maybe another time. She had not done that before, and she was quite good at it. So good that Harry had to take a step back from her.

Ruth gazed up at him with her blue eyes dark and sparkling with lust like he'd never seen. And she smiled. Oh what a deliciously naughty smile that was.

"Lie back on the bed," he instructed.

She did as she was told.


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N: rated M**

Harry crawled over the bed, a devilish smile on his face. Ruth reached out her arms to him, anticipating him covering her body with his, kissing her, making love to her. But Harry had other ideas.

He began at her ankle, kissing and caressing up her calf and thigh before turning his attention to her other leg. Ruth watched him, amazed and aroused. He was just so gentle, but there was such an undercurrent of virile power that left her quivering for him. She may not have known everything his job entailed, but she knew enough. Harry Pearce was a dangerous man. A powerful man. Perhaps at times a violent man. But here, with her, she saw him kind and attentive, and he treated her so delicately. Delicately, yes, but passionately.

And it was with that passion that Harry lifted her left leg over his shoulder and settled himself down between her thighs. His hot breath against her dark curls made her tremble with want. She whined his name and was rewarded with the tip of his tongue tracing the shape of her folds. And a moment later, he began to work on her in earnest.

Ruth's back arched up from the bed as a cry erupted from the back of her throat. Harry grinned, quite pleased with himself. He'd not gotten to do this before. He had been too anxious and excited their first time. It was all over before he could really put much thought into it. But now, he would not deny himself the absolute indulgence of making her fall to pieces with his mouth. It was not something he had always enjoyed doing for a woman, but for the right woman, it was quite a powerful experience. And Ruth was most certainly the right woman. The taste and smell and feel of her was incredible. His lips closed around her and he sucked hard, making her scream his name. His tongue plunged inside her and lapped up the wetness that seemed to flow freely. Ruth was grinding herself against his face, making his mouth and chin a bit glossy and messy. But he would not relent. He wanted to pay attention and know exactly what it was that would make her fall apart. His hands clutched at her full hips, digging into her flesh so much that he might leave bruises. But onward he went.

Ruth was starting to go numb. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't think, she could only feel the building, building, building tension Harry caused in her. Everything felt so good. Everything was so much. Her body was stretched like a rubber band ready to snap. She was desperate for release, to find the completion she desperately needed.

Harry's tongue moved over her at a different angle and repeated the action two, three times. And she gasped and cried out as her body shattered.


	38. Chapter 38

It all flooded her at once. The waves of pleasure. The release of tension. And the clearing of the fog. All that was lost was returned. How, she was not sure. But it was like the opposite of an etch-a-sketch. She was shaken up and instead of being wiped clean, she was filled back up. The emptiness was all gone.

"Harry!" she called out.

He did not stop. He thought she was just crying out his name in pleasure. And she had before. But not this time.

Ruth's shaking arms sought out his sparse hair and gave it a tug, pulling him off her. He finally looked up at her with dark, amorous eyes. "Thank you, Harry," she breathed, still trying to catch her breath.

"I…I wasn't quite finished…"

And she laughed, though her body was made of jelly and her thoughts were still in fragments. "No, not that. I mean…thank you for everything. You saved me. You brought me home. You took care of my cats!" she said, her voice shaky and a bit hysterical.

Harry's mind was distracted, what with the overwhelming lust he was trying to combat so he could understand the English language. "You…your cats?"

Ruth got up on her knees and pulled him up with her. "My cats. You took care of my cats, just like I asked."

He was stunned. "You remember your cats?"

"I remember everything! I remember the first time we met, when I dropped a stack of files and said to bugger the Home Office. I remember crying my eyes out when we got news you'd been shot. I remember Danny and Fiona and Colin. I remember white burgundy and thermobaric bombs and the way you kissed me and made love to me. And I remember being so bloody scared of how much I wanted you and running away from you at Havensworth and all the mess of Cotterdam and all of it! Harry, I remember!" she cried. Tears filled her eyes with the overwhelming realization that her memory had returned.

"You remember?" Harry still could not quite process it all.

But Ruth pulled him into his arms and hugged him close. "Harry, I remember!" She lifted her head to look upon that dear face she could now recall from the years she had spent learning it. "And I love you, Harry," she said.

He kissed her then. He felt her tears mingle with his against their cheeks as he kissed her with everything he had. How had it happened? How was it possible? How had she been returned to him after two months of being shrouded in mist?

And did it even matter? For she was with him again and she was whole and real and _she remembered_.


	39. Chapter 39

Even if Harry could find words, he would not have wanted to speak them. He was overwhelmed by the gravity of what had happened. Ruth was home in his arms and she loved him and she remembered him. And Harry was home between her legs, getting lost in her glorious heat.

He could not recall if he had looked into her eyes the last time he'd made love to her. He perhaps had kissed her or had buried his face in her neck as he thrust madly inside her. She had probably had her eyes closed as she moaned in pleasure.

But this time, he could not look away. Her eyes had always captivated him and he had always loved to watch her. It almost felt as though she might flutter away if he dared even blink. Their eyes were locked together as they gasped the same air. Ruth had her legs clenched around his waist and her fingers clenched around his shoulders and her heat clenched around his cock. She arched against him as she came but never once did her eyes leave his.

Ruth could feel Harry in every part of her, filling and stretching her with each hard, sliding thrust. His scent filled her every breath. His body covered hers almost completely. He was everywhere and everything, as he had always been. It was as though he were some burning hot sun and she was drawn into his orbit. She had never been able to escape him. Not really. Not ever. Nor had she wanted to. Whenever she had tried to resist him, it brought them both nothing but heartbreak.

And even now, as her entire field of vision was consumed by the darkness of his eyes, the honey-hazel nearly black with his desire, Ruth was utterly consumed by him. As her body erupted in pleasure, as he pounded into her with reckless abandon, Ruth realized that she was more alive and more at home than she had been since she was last here in his bed. This was where she belonged. She knew that without a shadow of a doubt, now that she'd tried so very hard to live life on her own and away from all the pain and elation, comfort and suffering that Harry had always wrought. But now she knew better. Now, she was finally home.


	40. Chapter 40

When Harry finished, he did not flop down beside her like he otherwise might have, nor did he collapse against her body and pin her to the mattress when he lacked the strength to move. He mustered the last of his flagging energy and rolled them both over, slipping out of her as he did and keeping her securely in the circle of his arms.

Her legs tangled with his as her body hummed with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Exhaustion threatened her, never mind that the sun had barely set. The overwhelming emotion of the day and the exertion of their lovemaking had completely drained her of everything she had.

Lord, had it really only been that very morning that she had woken up and kissed Harry and ended up making him so cross at her? Now that she fully understood what she'd done, she could not believe herself. Harry had been right, she never would have done that if she'd known. And it was strange, to lie there, naked in his arms, and have two parallel selves inside her. She remembered everything from their past, though it still felt a bit hazy; that was probably due to her sex-exhausted mind than anything else. But she also remembered what it felt like not to remember. What she'd felt just a few hours before when she had been a fresh and new Ruth with only two months of experience to fuel her. And a part of her still felt like that. She loved Harry as desperately and fiercely as she had when she'd not known the reason for it. She knew the reason now, but it frightened her, almost, to think of how intensely she had felt for him on pure faith alone.

The two months she had spend living in this house after being brought back to England and knowing only the name of Harry Pearce had given her a wealth of understanding for the man who had quite nearly begged for her those years ago. She had known him so much better then, she thought, but that wasn't true. Living with him like this and trusting him to take care of her when she was all alone and afraid, that had taught her the true nature of Harry Pearce. Knowing him on the Grid and in the element of the work that was his life, she had thought that was who he was. But here, with his little dog and her sweet cats, he was someone she'd never thought possible. And she loved him all the more for it.

These thoughts comforted Ruth as she let sleep claim her. Harry was already breathing deep and even, already dozing off as his heartrate returned to normal. They were both sweaty and messy and in desperate need of a shower, but they could do that later. They could get up and clean off and she would change the sheets and he would make them some dinner and they would sit in the kitchen and speak softly of the past and the future, for both were wide open to them now.

Ruth smiled, nuzzling against his bare chest, amazed that the waking world was, for once, so much better than dreams could ever be.


	41. Chapter 41

It was pitch dark outside. Sometime between very late and very early. That time of the night or morning when the world is still and silent and secretive. It was then that Ruth was hovering between sleep and wakefulness, her mind churning as her body rested. The memories that filled her needed to be reviewed and processed and organized, such was her way with things of that sort. And as she and Harry slept on, things began to fall into place.

Ruth came across a memory, then, that prompted a visceral response. Her heart seized and her stomach roiled and her breath caught in her throat. She had a mighty spasm of her whole body and sat straight up, gasping in terror.

Harry was awakened immediately, his years of training keeping him from ever sleeping too deeply or waking too unfocused. "Ruth? What is it? What's wrong?" he asked, sitting up and looking at her through the shadows.

"I…I remember," she whispered. It was as though if she spoke any louder, she might shatter into a million pieces.

"Yes, I know," he replied softly. Gently he reached out to try and stroke her hair and comfort her, but she jerked away from him.

She pulled the crumpled sheet up over her naked body, covering herself from view. He thought she might have been shaking, but perhaps that was a trick of the light.

"Ruth? What is it, darling? What do you remember?" Harry asked, trying to be kind and soothing, trying not to let his own anxiety over this sudden terror show through.

The words would not come. She could see it in her head. She could feel everything as though it were happening right then and there. And all that came before. The fear and guilt crashed over her with such violence, she was unprepared and unable to combat it.

Without any warning, Ruth clambered off the bed, dragging the sheet with her, and stumbled into the bathroom. All Harry could hear was the sound of her retching into the toilet.


	42. Chapter 42

Everything felt cold and empty again, but this time her mind was too full and she couldn't take it. Before, the emptiness of amnesia had been strangely warm and comforting in a way, frustrating and a bit frightening but not like this. Now the memory had sucked the life out of her.

Harry got out of bed and found his trunks before hurrying into the bathroom. He did not want to crowd her but ne needed to be sure she was alright. She seemed to have stopped vomiting, but she was breathing heavily with her head bowed over the toilet. And she was muttering something.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

He sat down on the cold tile floor beside her, distantly wondering if he'd be able to get up again what with his dodgy knee. "Ruth? What are you sorry for?" he asked.

She had never heard him like that before, soft and gentle and afraid. There had been that time, so long ago, when he'd pretended to be dying during their first EERIE exercise, but that had felt different. This was a level of concern that Ruth would not have expected from him. He spoke to her like a child having a nightmare. And in some ways, that's how she felt.

"Please talk to me," he begged, getting more and more worried by the second as she continued to ignore him. "What can I do?"

Ruth turned her head toward him, resting it on the side of the toilet bowl. Not the most sanitary thing, but she lacked the strength to be concerned about it now. "I remember what happened. The car accident."

"Oh Ruth, I'm so sorry," he responded. His hand twitched, wanting to reach out to her, but he refrained.

"I was living in Cyprus. Polis, that was the town." She closed her eyes. It was torture to look at Harry as she explained. But she had to say it. He deserved to know. "I did clerical work in the hospital. And there was…there was this doctor."

Harry was not sure he liked where this was going. And her living in Cyprus and working in a hospital did not answer what she was doing getting into a car crash in Turkey. But knowing where she'd been, what she'd done during those two years they were apart…he would be lying if he said he wasn't curious.

Ruth continued, "His name was George. He was kind to me. A widower. And we got on. We both had lost love to bond us together. I told him that I lost the man I loved. I couldn't tell him any of the details and I didn't want to, but I let him believe whatever he wanted. And it was nice to…to have someone. To not be alone."

"I'm glad you weren't alone, Ruth. I had hoped that you found some happiness wherever you were," he said kindly.

She opened her eyes to look at his dear face, that tired and worn face that she loved so desperately and showed his affection for her in ever line. "He wasn't you, Harry."

"But I was here and we couldn't be together," he reminded her.

Tears filled her eyes as she sat back against the bathroom cabinet and wrapped the sheet more tightly around her.

Harry let her tears fall in silence, not wanting to push her, not wanting to pry the rest of the story out of her, but they couldn't stay like this forever. And he had to know. He had to know if his fears about this George and what he had shared with Ruth were true. "Ruth, why were you in Turkey? Were you with George?"

She nodded, shutting her eyes tight as she tried to hide from the truth that was making her nauseous again.

"Please tell me, Ruth."

She honestly did not know if she could.


	43. Chapter 43

"I missed you so much, Harry, you have to know that," she told him in a desperate, harsh whisper.

"I missed you, too," he responded.

A thought crossed her mind, a vain hope to assuage this guilt that consumed her from the inside out. "Were you…with anyone? While I was away?" she asked.

The question caught him off guard, and he did not have the fortitude to react as he probably should have. He should have been kind and gentle. He wanted to be kind and gentle. But instead he scoffed. "Of course not. When would I have been with anyone? Who could want to be with me?"

That wasn't the answer she was looking for. "Not even one date?" Ruth asked in a small voice.

"Not one," Harry told her truthfully. "But you remember what it was like, Ruth. The sort of life the Grid gives you. There's no time for anything like that. Not in my position."

"You went out with me," she reminded him.

"Yes, and look where that got us," he responded with a sad smile.

Tears clouded her vision again. "God, Harry, I'm so sorry." She pulled the sheet around her and freed her hands to cover her face with them. "Just leave me here, please." Her voice was muffled but very decisive.

"No," Harry said, just as firmly. "Whatever's upsetting you, Ruth, whatever's making you apologize to me, I need you to tell me what it is."

Ruth lifted her head and looked right into his eyes with fire and the most intense pain Harry had ever seen in her. Her voice was barely more than a whisper, but it hit him with the force of a typhoon. "We were getting married."

Harry suddenly felt like it was he who needed to throw up this time.


	44. Chapter 44

"You…what?" he choked, trying to keep himself under control.

"George and I. He was so kind to me, and he wouldn't really take no for an answer. He reminded me of you in that way. He didn't let me run away from him the way I thought I wanted to. And so I stopped running. I was safe where I was, for the time being. I wanted to call somewhere home. So I let George take me to dinner and buy me flowers and all the rest. And I moved into his house and we built something of a life and…and he wanted to take me on holiday to Turkey, to this lovely little town where an uncle of his lived. And he said that we should get married. And God help me, I said yes!" Ruth's words poured out of her mouth between her sobs. She was unable to staunch the flow of her story any more than the flow of her tears. And with every word, she hated herself just a little bit more.

For how could she not? How could she ever explain her betrayal? And that's what it was, surely. Her heart belonged to Harry. That was never in doubt. And instead of remaining faithful to him, instead of holding onto her love for him the way he had done for her, she had thrown it away. No, not thrown it away. She had buried it deep inside her alongside her real name and her truest self. In Cyprus, she had been Rachel Emmerson. She had been a former bank secretary from Norfolk. And she had wanted to live somewhere sunny. Somewhere where the heat and brightness would burn off all the pain and sorrow that plagued her. And she had let that sun make her drunk on its shiny promises of a tall, dark, handsome man who wanted to make her happy. Never mind that she'd not been happy in eighteen months. Never mind that she still dreamed of a tired middle-aged man whose dark gaze still made her tingle, even in her memories. Ruth had denied the very essence of herself to try to hold the tendrils of fragrant smoke that George promised. She'd let the illusion take her over.

And where had it gotten her?

"What happened to George, Ruth?" Harry asked. He was prodding her back to the present, back to what they'd been discussing.

Ruth opened her mouth to apologize to him again. But it wasn't just Harry she needed to be sorry about. She had put him in a box in her heart, thinking she would never have to open that box ever again. And poor George, he did not deserve that treatment from her. He had been smart and strong and so achingly kind. He believed in goodness and honesty, two things that Ruth had learned were shrouded in shadow more often than not. She had ignored her better angels—or her better demons, more accurately—and dragged him down into the swirling pit of despair that lurked within her.

But Harry had asked her a question, and he deserved an answer. The regrets swirling inside her mind would need to be silenced for now, just long enough for her to get the words out.

"He was driving the car, and he looked away for just a second," she recalled, seeing his handsome face in her mind, seeing how he smiled at her and leaned in for a kiss when she had talked about what they would do after their wedding later that day. "And then a car ran the intersection and hit us head-on. There was broken glass and twisted metal and gasoline on fire and in the end, I was dragged out of the car and George was dead."


	45. Chapter 45

"I'm so sorry, Ruth," Harry said softly. What else could he say? She had loved that man, loved him enough to marry him. Harry did not like that fact one single bit, but that was neither here nor there. The fact was, Ruth had been happy. And that happiness had been shattered.

It had not been shattered by terrorism or corrupt politicians or villains seeking to manipulate Harry and Section D through using Ruth. That had all happened before. And Harry had thought she'd escaped it. In truth, that was the one thing that had sustained him over the last two years without her. He could keep her on a pedestal in his heart and as much as he missed her, he could be comforted by the fact that she was safe and perhaps happy somewhere. God, how he wanted her to be happy. How he needed her to be safe.

But it wasn't their dark MI-5 world that had brought her demise. It had been a freak accident. A car running an intersection in a town in Turkey, of all things. All that she had built for herself had shattered like the glass of the car windows. And even though Harry had absolutely nothing to do with it, he still felt it was his fault.

After all, his was the name she had in her head after the accident. His was the name that had caught Ben Kaplan's attention. His was the name that had brought her back to England. Perhaps she'd have been better off recovering from her injuries in Turkey. She might have had friends back in Cyprus who knew she and George had gone to Turkey, friends who would look for her. And if she'd never found Harry Pearce, that name she kept asking for in that hospital, perhaps she might have found a way to live a happy life without ever remembering who he was.

Only she did remember. She remembered because of Harry. She was upset and crying and throwing up because he had helped her remember the horrors she'd experienced. Perhaps this particular horror was not his fault, but he certainly did not feel blameless.

Ruth wiped her eyes and shook her head. "You have nothing to apologize for, Harry."

"But you're hurting, and I'm sorry for that," he explained.

She attempted a rather tight-lipped smile in appreciation for his kindness. "I think I'm done being sick now," she said.

"That's good. Why don't we get up and get dressed and I'll make us some tea, alright?" He tried to be subtle about how difficult it was for him to get up off the floor, but didn't quite manage to be at all graceful about.

Ruth took the hand he offered in helping her up. Her fingers were cold. He wanted to hold them in his and warm them up, but she took her hand away as soon as she was standing. She did not wait for him when she went back to the bedroom to get her clothes.


	46. Chapter 46

Ruth sat drinking the tea Harry made for them both. _Sweet tea. How very English_, she nearly said. But she did not want to recall their past anymore, despite her newly recovered memories of it. As much as she loved him, as much as she'd missed him, Ruth knew that so many of their memories together were unhappy ones. Stress and fear and pain and death. Far too much death. Even when she'd escaped Harry, she'd not been able to escape death. It seemed to follow her as much as it had followed him.

For his part, Harry did not want to speak for fear that he might say or do something to upset her further. He'd pulled on a shirt and gone downstairs to start the kettle while Ruth found some knickers and a dressing gown. She was sitting at the kitchen table looking so forlorn. His heart ached, wishing he could do something for her.

It was just that they'd been so _happy_. Just a few hours before, they'd overcome so much and finally fallen into bed and she's remembered him, and they'd be happy! It was all gone now, it seemed. To look at Ruth, one might think she'd never be happy again.

Eventually, she finished her tea and pushed the mug away. She murmured her thanks but otherwise made no attempt at conversation.

"I think perhaps we should go back to bed and figure things out in the morning," Harry suggested.

"You'll have to go to Thames House tomorrow," she said, now that she was well-acquainted with Harry's life.

"Probably. But I can call Adam and check in, and I might be able to stay home for a little while. I don't want to leave you alone," he replied.

"About that," she began. "I think…I think I need to be alone for a while. I need to work it all out, and I don't want to have you worried about me. You've got better things to do, after all."

It was in his mind to protest that statement, but he knew better. He could not refute her on that point.

"I'm going to stay in the guest room for tonight. And tomorrow, I should go back to that safehouse you got for me. If that's okay. I can pack some things and take a cab if you'll give me the address and the keys."

"You…you don't want to say?"

"I don't think I should, Harry," she insisted softly. "I've been enough of a nuisance to you as it is."

"But I love you," he blurted, not having anything else he could manage to say.

Ruth reached across the table and ran her fingertips down the back of his hand. "And I love you. But I've been too much of a burden to you through all this. And now that I can, I think I've got to try to stand on my own two feet. I just need a bit of time."

A cold terror gripped Harry's insides like a vice, but he tamped it down. "Whatever you think is best."


	47. Chapter 47

Neither Harry nor Ruth slept a wink the rest of that night. They were both far too used to sleeping beside the other to be able to sleep alone comfortably. Though even if they'd been in bed together, they likely would not have slept. At least this way, they were spared the gaping awkwardness of a tension-filled silence, lying side by side and not knowing what to do or say.

Ruth wished she could be brave like she was before and go to join him in his bed as she had done her first night in that house with a bandaged head and a plastered arm. But knowing what she'd done and knowing how hurt he must be and knowing how mixed up she was, she couldn't bear to face him. It felt like she'd spent a lifetime running from him when she wished she could run to him instead. Maybe it was just herself she really wanted to run from.

Harry lay in bed and stared at the ceiling and tried to keep himself from hoping she'd come into the room and curl up in his arms once more. His bed felt empty without her. And god only knew what the house would feel like tomorrow when she left. He couldn't very well stop her. That would be cruel, he knew.

But Harry would not let her go without a fight, not completely. He'd give her the space she needed. He'd let her go to the safehouse. And he'd give her no more than forty-eight hours. After that, he'd go and beg her to come back to him. Or at least talk to him. Tell him how to fix it. She had her memory back now, for better or worse, and she must remember how they used to face every problem on the Grid together, how she would use that brilliant mind of hers to find the best options and lay them out for him to make a decision. That was how it had always been for the two of them. She would figure things out and he would make decisions. And if he needed to make the decision for them both so they could be together, so be it. He had not done a good enough job in convincing her to return to him the last time. He'd let her slip away after the gossip, after Havensworth, after Cotterdam. Not this time. Never again.


	48. Chapter 48

The following morning, amidst the quiet exhaustion brought on by their grief and sleeplessness, Harry had done his best to help Ruth pack some of her things. He had offered to help take her cats over, but she declined. He was grateful for that, hoping that it meant she wasn't planning on being gone long. But she did say it was because Fidget and Leopold were happy where they were with Scarlett and it wouldn't be very nice to uproot them like this.

It had been in his mind to drive her to the safehouse himself, but duty called and interrupted as it often did. Adam redflashed the whole team and Harry needed to get to the Grid immediately. Ruth insisted it was fine, that she'd make her way to the safehouse herself. He gave her money for the cab, despite her insistent refusal to let him pay for it.

Deep in the bowels of Thames House, Harry found that the situation was already well in hand with the rest of his team and the operation was nearly all sorted. Adam had panicked slightly when Ros had failed to respond to his messages and Malcolm said there hadn't been any check-in from her in almost twenty-four hours. But she turned up and took Ben with her for backup. They now knew the location of the explosives hidden somewhere on the Jubilee Line. And by lunchtime, the bomb squad had been called in and Ros and Ben were returning triumphant.

Since all was calm for the moment, Harry called Jo into his office.

"What are you doing right now?" he asked as soon as she entered.

"I was going to help Malcolm with the report and then see where Adam needed me," she replied.

Harry nodded. He'd never say that anything on the Grid wasn't important but he was glad that Jo wasn't in the middle of anything important. "I need you to do something for me. I need you to take a secured laptop to this address and bring over some lunch to share," he instructed, handing her a slip of paper.

"What am I doing with the laptop and the lunch?" Jo asked warily.

Normally Harry wasn't so cryptic with assignments to his officers but he was bone tired and not paying as much attention as he should. He sighed, scrubbing his face to wake up. "Ruth is at that address. I'm assuming she hasn't eaten, so thus the suggestion of some sandwiches or something. And she's got her memory back and I'd like you to go help her do some investigation about her time in Turkey. There doesn't seem to be anything nefarious about the accident that nearly killed her, but in our world, one can never be too careful."

Jo's eyes went wide. "Oh my god, is she…"

Harry cut her off by raising his hand to stop whatever she'd been about to say. "I'm not going to divulge anything else. You can ask Ruth yourself, but I hope you'll exercise discretion and restraint. She's had a hell of a time and I'm hoping your presence will help her. If it has the opposite effect, I shall be very cross," he said warningly.

Feeling like a child who'd been chastised by her father, Jo just nodded and took the slip of paper with the address. She borrowed a laptop from Malcolm without having to explain what she needed it for and she went out, stopping at a sandwich shop on her way to the address Harry had provided.


	49. Chapter 49

A knock came at the door of the townhouse that Ruth had spent the morning wandering around in. She was immediately gripped with terror, wondering who could be coming to see her, who knew she was there, what horrible thing would happen now. For a moment, she thought it might have been Harry, but he would have announced himself, she was sure. And he had promised to give her time, and six hours wasn't much time at all.

She grabbed a hardbound book to possibly whack someone in the face with—there wasn't much else in the place she could use as a weapon without going to the kitchen to make noise finding a knife—and cautiously looked through the viewhole in the door.

Ruth gasped upon seeing who it was. She looked different, to be sure, but she knew who it was. Ruth put the book down and opened the door. "Jo!" Ruth ushered her into the house and closed the door behind her.

Joanna Portman was carrying a big bag and put it down before giving Ruth a hug. "Ruth, oh my god, it's so good to see you!"

It was slightly overwhelming to see the young girl from her past, but in a very good way. Ruth pulled back to look at her. "Your hair! It's so blonde and so short!"

Jo laughed, "Do you like it?"

"It suits you. I'd have never pictured you like that. But it is quite good."

"And you!" Jo exclaimed, "Your hair's so long! Gosh, I'd kill for that curl. Back when my hair was that long, I had to attack it with all sorts of stupid products. That's part of why I bleached it and cut it like this. So much easier to manage. And it's easy to put a wig on if I'm undercover."

Ruth nodded. "Yes, that makes sense."

Jo bent down and pulled a paper sack out of her bag. "I brought lunch for us."

"Oh?"

"Harry said you probably hadn't eaten."

Ruth sighed, "Of course Harry sent you to check up on me. I really am fine."

"Have you eaten?"

By averting her eyes, Ruth answered that question with a very loud silence.

Jo just laughed merrily. "Come on, let's eat and talk a bit, and after we've had our fun, I can tell you why I'm really here. But as long as Harry sent me, we can take our time."

The two women went into the kitchen and got plates and napkins and things for their lunch. Before they sat down, Ruth put her hand on Jo's arm. "It's really good to see you," she said softly.

"It's really good to see you, too."


	50. Chapter 50

As they ate, Jo began peppering Ruth with questions. "So Ben found you with amnesia in Turkey."

"You know Ben?"

Jo smirked slightly. "Ben was a journalist I was dating before Adam and I recruited him to Five. He's our newest officer."

"And are you still dating him?"

The way Jo shrugged told Ruth that the answer was 'officially no, but unofficially _yes_.'

"What else are you allowed to tell me about the Grid? Since I know I don't have security clearance anymore. Who's still around?"

"Adam and Ros are still our stars in the field, of course. They've both been really good about training me."

"And Zaf?"

Jo's pleasant face went very grave. "We lost Zaf."

Ruth's breath caught in her throat at that. Zaf—other than Harry, of course—was the last friend she'd seen before she had to leave London far behind her. Zaf, who had stayed up with her by the docks all night. Zaf, who promised he'd smile at her if they ever say each other again. Well, they'd never see each other again now.

At that thought, a wave of sorrow crashed over Ruth so powerful, she almost wanted to vomit again. But she tamped it down. She didn't retch. She didn't even cry. Later, she could cry. _There will be time to grieve_, Harry had once told her. And there would be. She would make sure there would be. But here and now with Jo was not that time. Jo had probably suffered through enough. Two years on the Grid was a long time. Two years on the Grid surely brought unspeakable pain.

"How?" Ruth eventually asked.

"There's a lot I don't think I can tell you. But it took a long time for us to learn the truth. He was kidnapped and we followed a lot of dead ends. Eventually we found his remains. Burned."

Ruth shut her eyes tight to keep all that hurt inside. Later. Later there would be time to grieve. Best move on for now. "And…and everyone else? Adam and Malcolm and Ros? They're alright."

Jo looked a bit sad again. "Adam has good days and bad. I know you were there when his wife was killed…"

"Yes," Ruth answered, recalling those horrible months when Adam had been in such awful denial over Fiona's death, when he'd worked himself too hard and tried to escape his pain.

"Well, he's still not really recovered. I don't think he ever will be."  
"No, probably not. And knowing Adam, he probably doesn't want to be. Not really."

Jo nodded. "He does his best. He's still our Section Chief. But Ros does most of the heavy lifting."

"Ros?!" Ruth asked in surprise.

And Jo laughed at that. "Yes, believe it or not, Ros has sort of…"

"What?"

"Come into her own, I guess. She and Harry are really close."

That caught Ruth quite off guard. "Oh?"

"Not like that. Not at all. We know Harry's never gotten over you."

Ruth ignored the violent wave of nausea that threatened her again.

Jo continued, "No, Ros and Harry have some sort of understanding between them. They're almost the same person, actually. The two of them are both so strong and so cold, sometimes. But it's because they care so much. They have the same sense of duty about them. I think Ros is going to end up in Harry's chair one of these days. And I think she'd fit really well."

All of this was news to Ruth. Harry hadn't mentioned anything about Ros. Certainly not like this! Well, he wouldn't, would he? She'd only remembered who Ros was about twelve hours ago.

They were quiet for a minute. Jo finished her sandwich. Ruth had stopped eating hers. But Jo didn't press the issue.


	51. Chapter 51

"Ruth, I was wondering if I could ask you about what happened to you," Jo said softly.

She turned to her friend and forced a small smile. "Yes, alright." Before they went any further, Ruth gave silent thanks to Harry for sending Jo. He'd known she'd need to talk about it. He'd known she needed a friend. And he'd known that it couldn't be him.

"So what happened in Turkey? That's where Ben found you, asking for Harry, right? That's all Ben told us, that he found Ruth Evershed in Turkey asking for Harry Pearce and he'd called Malcolm to help get you back home."

Ruth smiled. She hadn't known it was Malcolm that Ben had called, but that certainly made sense. Good old Malcolm. Oh she missed him. His gentle ways, his charming fastidiousness, his kindly humor. Maybe she could ask Harry to send Malcolm to come see her, too. She obviously wasn't allowed to contact anyone herself.

But Jo had asked a question and even though Ruth had told the horrible truth to Harry that morning, the more she said it out loud, the easier it might be. And so she told Jo the whole thing. How she'd ended up in Polis because it was a city by the seaside where it was sunny and warm and a place where she could be lost away from tourists and start somewhere fresh and speak Greek. How she'd gotten a job as a file clerk in the hospital, how a widowed doctor was so kind to her. How she'd allowed herself to get lost in the fantasy of a tall, dark, handsome man and pretend like she was a happy person without shadows clouding her heart. How she'd started each day with a swim in the pool of his villa, and how they'd decided to go on holiday to Turkey.

"That morning, he'd asked me to marry him. Well, sort of. He told me that he loved me and wanted to share life with me, and he said that perhaps we should get married. And I…I said yes. Because Ruth Evershed wanted to run for the hills and go home and escape, but Rachel Emmerson…she didn't have any reason to say no. It was later that day that George was driving us to go see his uncle just outside Anamur, and we were going to go with his family to the local church to be married." Ruth paused to swallow hard. It really was easier to tell it the second time, particularly without Harry watching her now. But it was still a difficult thing to say. "We were driving and a car ran an intersection and hit us. I saw George dead. I know he was dead. I've…I've seen enough people dead that I know what it looks like. But then the blood from my head wound got in my eyes and the pain from my broken arm was overwhelming me even in the shock, and I passed out. I woke up in that hospital asking for Harry. And that's when Ben found me."

All through the story, Jo watched Ruth with rapt attention. She had smiled at all the nice bits and looked concerned at all the scary bits. A very good audience. But what was best was that she kept quiet. She let Ruth get it all out in her own way and in her own time. She didn't push or prod or interrupt. Ruth was very grateful for that.

"So that was it, really," Ruth said, somewhat lamely. Jo still hadn't said anything, leaving Ruth feeling a bit awkward now.

Jo turned in her chair and got her bag from the floor. She pushed her plate aside and took a laptop out to put on the table. "I think that brings us to why Harry sent me here. I mean, he sent me to check on you and to make sure you ate and to be a friend, and I'm really glad he picked me to come so I could do all that. But he told me to bring a secured laptop so I could help you do some investigating. Since you don't have security clearance or access to a computer, I assume."

Ruth frowned. "Research?"

"Well, now that you remember what happened in Turkey, I think we should see if there's any news of what happened to George and his family. See what there is on Rachel Emmerson. And, I think most importantly, to make sure that whoever hit your car really was just some random person on the road in Turkey and not someone who was looking to harm Ruth Evershed."

That thought had not yet occurred to Ruth, and she felt bloody stupid that it hadn't. But Jo was right. Harry was right. They needed to do some investigating.


	52. Chapter 52

It had been Jo's intention to do all the work and just tell Ruth what she found, but that quickly became less than feasible. Jo may have done an alright job helping Malcolm on the Grid when they lacked their star analyst, but there was a reason Ruth had been their star.

Ruth felt as though a switched was flipped inside her, her mind returning back to those old habits and skills she'd not used in so long. She gave suggestions to Jo so quickly, it nearly made the younger woman's head spin. The name of the newspaper in Anamur to look for reports of the accident. Check traffic camera footage from the intersection where George's car had been hit. The names of all of the members of George's family that Ruth knew. All of the biographical information about Rachel Emmerson that might trigger something. The hospital records where she had worked. The address of George's villa in Polis. On and on and on.

It only took about twenty minutes before Jo just handed the laptop over. Ruth could do it quicker herself anyway. And besides that, Jo didn't read Greek or Turkish, so Ruth had to translate everything anyway.

Ruth's fingers were like lightning on the keys, typing away madly, getting into things the find the answers she needed. Only when she found the obituary notice did she pause.

Jo couldn't read the article on the screen, but she had some idea of what it said. Ruth's eyes were filled with unshed tears and she put a shaky hand to her lips. "Can you read it to me?" Jo asked, not unkindly.

This was good, Ruth knew. It was good to say the words out loud, to speak them in English. To make them real. She swallowed the lump in her throat and read, "George Masalis, medical doctor of Polis, age forty-three, died in a car crash while on holiday in Turkey. His Turkish relatives, the Polat family, mourn his passing. The funeral was held in Anamur and George was buried with his family in the churchyard. His loss is felt by friends and colleagues in Cyprus where…" Ruth gasped and stopped reading.

"What is it?" Jo asked with concern.

Ruth forced herself to continue. "His loss is felt by friends and colleagues in Cyprus where he lived with his wife, Maria, and their son Nico, before their untimely passing in 1999." She turned to Jo and explained, "I knew his wife had died. I…I never knew he had a son."

Jo let that truth settle between them for a moment before she prompted Ruth to go on. "Do you want to check the CCTV footage?"

That spurred her back into action. She sniffed back her emotion and blinked herself into focus. "Yes, let me do that now. Do you want to put in your password to activate the system? I can do it from there."

Despite the gravity of the revelations, Jo could not help but smile. Ruth was back.


	53. Chapter 53

Harry sat in his office very late that night, drinking scotch and watching BBC News. Well, the television was on but Harry wasn't watching it. Eventually he'd need to go home and feed the animals and get some sleep, since he'd been up half the night with Ruth, but he did not want to leave yet. Or rather, he did not want to go back to that house knowing that she wouldn't be there.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw movement out on the Grid. He looked out the window and saw Malcolm walking towards the office. He gave a small nod, indicating that his friend was free to enter.

As Malcolm opened the door and closed it behind him, Harry shut off the television and got up to pour another glass of scotch. The two men did not speak as they took their drinks and sat on the sofa, except a quiet murmur of 'cheers' as they took their first sips.

Malcolm put his glass down and turned his attention to Harry. "Penny for them?"

_Where to begin?_ Harry thought to himself. He took another drink to steel himself. "Ruth's gone to the safehouse to be on her own. She's got her memory back."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

He nodded. "It was, for a little while. And then she remembered everything. Including how she was living with a man who she'd agreed to marry before he died in the car accident that gave her that amnesia to begin with."

"Oh Harry, I'm so sorry," Malcolm said kindly.

"She says she wants to be on her own for a little while to work everything out, but Christ, I can't help but think that if it weren't for that car crash, she'd be married and living in Cyprus right now and I'd have never seen her again."

"But you have seen her again. She's back and she remembers now."

Harry gave a humorless laugh at that. "Yes, she's back here with me and she's miserable, just like it's always been. And if she were there with that man, she could be married and safe and happy. I can't give her any of that."

Malcolm opened his mouth and then shut it again very quickly, stopping himself. But then he changed his mind. "Harry, I know it's none of my business to say, but I bet by tomorrow, Ruth will come around to the truth that she doesn't want to admit. And that truth is the same as its always been, and that's that Ruth would rather be in danger by your side than safe anywhere else."

"God I wish that weren't true." And that was Harry's truth. Because he knew that Malcolm was right, that despite everything, Ruth's place was right beside him. Ruth had only ever left his side and made her sacrifice during the Cotterdam scandal because she had wanted him to stay on the wall, as it were. She would have never left for anything less. And all Harry wanted was for her to be safe and happy. Two things it did not seem possible for him to give her when they were both in the trenches. But what else could they do? If Ruth asked him if she could to come back to work, he would move heaven and earth to make it happen. He needed her in every conceivable way. He wanted to come home to her each day, but he also wanted to have her sitting beside him in the briefing room. They belonged together, for better or worse. And it was usually worse.

"Even if she had married that man in Cyprus," Malcolm continued, "I don't think would have been happy."

"Of course she would have been happy," Harry snarled angrily, finishing the last of his scotch and putting the glass down with a bit too much force. "She would have been living a simple, easy, elegant life. She would have been happy. She might have been unfulfilled or she might have missed the excitement of this life, but she would have been happy."

Malcolm did not have a response to that. Because it was true.


	54. Chapter 54

Ruth lay in bed that night entirely unable to sleep. She was exhausted, but she couldn't sleep. Her stomach was in knots and she was so anxious, she was worried she'd be sick again.

She turned over and lay on her back, staring up at the dark ceiling. The last time she was in this bed was when Harry had brought her here that first day back in England. She was in agony and she was confused and she was afraid, and he had rescued her. That day and a half in Turkey with Ben, she'd just blindly followed him. It was bloody stupid, but she'd had amnesia and here was a young man promising to take her to Harry Pearce. And she had gone where he led and Harry had walked through the door of what she now knew was Interview Room 3. She and Juliet Shaw had interviewed an anarchist professor in that room. It was weird to think of that now. It felt so very far away.

This was a comfortable bed, Ruth could not help but thinking as she turned over. She had not noticed when she'd practically passed out in it those two months ago. Harry had promised not to leave her alone, and she had felt safe enough to succumb to her exhaustion. And then she woke up in pain and panic and found Harry asleep in a chair by the bed. She'd asked him why he had not joined her in bed. At the time it had seemed a reasonable question. Now, she knew exactly why he hadn't gotten under the covers beside her. That wasn't anything they'd ever done. Only that one night in his house after their single date.

God, what an idiot she was! Harry was right when he'd told her amnesiac self that she had been too afraid to let him love her. She had always been afraid of everything she'd wanted. Happiness and joy and love were always such fleeting things for her, all her life. And she loved Harry too much to let him fall victim to whatever hardship would befall them, should they continue. Of course, she'd been used against him and he'd nearly gone to prison for it. Bloody Cotterdam. Bloody all of it!

Knowing she was nowhere close to sleeping, Ruth got out of bed and wrapped herself in the dressing gown she'd found—Harry had ensured that all the essentials in her size were in the safehouse for her use when he'd originally arranged it—and went into the kitchen to make herself a cuppa.

She curled herself up on the sofa in the dark sitting room and sipped her tea. And she took the phone off the charger and dialed the number written on the pad beside it.

It was answered on the second ring. "Hello?"

"I hope I didn't wake you. I couldn't sleep."


	55. Chapter 55

Harry could not help but smile upon hearing her voice. "I couldn't sleep either. Well, I haven't tried to sleep yet. I knew I wouldn't be able to. How are you feeling?"

Ruth paused. "I'm not sure. I don't feel very good, but I'm not as bad off as I was."

"That's good."

"Thank you for sending Jo to come see me," she said, wanting to be sure Harry knew how much she appreciated it.

"Was she helpful? I didn't speak to her when she returned to the Grid. Adam needed her for something."

"She was incredibly helpful. Being able to talk to someone who—sorry, Harry—but to talk to someone who wasn't you was a great help. And I hadn't even thought about investigating the car accident. Was that your idea as well?"

"Yes," he told her. "I wanted to be sure there wasn't more there than met the eye. You remember now, so you know that it's always a good idea for us to be sure, in our world."

Ruth nodded, though he couldn't see her. "Yes, you're right."

"And? What did you find?" He figured he might as well ask, since they were talking on the phone.

"Just a car accident. The driver of the other car also died. He was a family man in Anamur. No hits at all in the system with Five or Six. And he had alcohol in his bloodstream. George was killed by a drunk driver. Nothing more."

Harry shifted uncomfortably on the sofa at her cold recitation of facts. "I'm glad it was nothing more, but I am so sorry for your loss, Ruth."

"Thanks. Or…I don't know what one is supposed to say in response to 'sorry for your loss.' I didn't know what to say when I was a child and my father died. My mum always just politely thanked people."

"I don't know if there's anything anyone really can say in situations like that," he said softly.

"I suppose its nice for bereaved people not to feel alone. To know that someone is thinking of them and cares about their pain."

"I'm always thinking of you, Ruth. And I care very much about your pain."

A lump started to form in her throat. She did her best to swallow it away. "Yes, Harry, I know."

A tension-filled silence fell between them. Harry wished more than anything that she was back home with him and sitting on the sofa beside him. He hated to hear her so full of sorrow like this. If she were here, he could pull her into his arms and hold her and kiss her and try anything he could to help make her feel safe and content. But she was off in the safehouse where she would certainly be safe, only Harry wasn't the one to help make her safe. Still, at least she was safe anyway. "So," he finally said, "are you alright otherwise? Do you have everything you need there? Are you eating?"

Ruth nearly started to laugh. His concern was so endearing. "I'm not injured anymore and I don't have amnesia. I'm doing alright. I've got everything I need. And Jo brought me a sandwich for lunch, and I had a frozen pizza for dinner."

"Well if you need anything, you've still got the credit card," he reminded her.

That was another thing for her to worry about at another time. "I won't need to buy anything. I think I should stay one more day here and then come back home."

His heart soared at that. Home. She meant his house and she'd called it home. "Whatever you think is best," Harry replied, hiding his elation.

"Well, I miss the animals. It's odd knocking about an empty house without Scarlett and Fidget and Leopold," she said.

"Do you only miss the animals?" he asked her quietly.

"No. Not only the animals."

Harry exhaled in satisfaction. "Good. That's good."


	56. Chapter 56

Ruth eventually did go to sleep. Talking to Harry had been very good for her. Because as confused and upset as she was by this whole situation, he was the only one she ever really wanted to talk to. She loved that man. She'd told him only twice since she'd gotten her memory back, since she'd really truly known what it was to fully love him. The first time he kissed her, she thought, that was when a piece of her heart had imbedded itself inside Harry Pearce. She had let him take her up to his bed and make love to her. She had faked her death and thrown away everything she had known to keep him out of prison, to protect the man who held that piece of her heart. And when she'd kissed him goodbye, she had left that piece of her heart behind on those docks. Even when she'd not known her own name, she had felt that this unknown man called Harry Pearce was who she needed. And in his house with their little pets and living their strange little domestic life, her heart had finally gotten stitched back together again. It wasn't until her memories had flooded back to her that she'd even realized it. Harry still held that piece of her heart, but she also held a piece of his. And to keep them separated would be cruel.

Oh she still had plenty to worry about and work through. What did it mean that George had never told her about his son? What would she be doing now if George had not died? Did any of it even matter? What would become of Rachel Emmerson, not the person herself but the part of Ruth that had lived nearly a year with her identity? And now that she was Ruth Evershed once more, what was she supposed to do? Should she go back to Five? Was she even allowed to go back to the Grid? Did her mother still think her dead? How should she even begin to go about trying to reclaim bits of her old life? And did she even want them?

It was far too much to unpick, but it was actually comforting to know that she would not have to do it alone. She would make her own choices and her own decisions, to be sure, but Harry would be there to support her and help her in any way he could. Of that, she had no doubt.

And it was that kind thought, she had finally fallen asleep.

When she woke, it was far later than she'd imagined. Harry would surely be on the Grid by then. She would not bother him. She had told him that she needed one more day to herself, so she would take that day and she would return to him the following morning. Ruth hadn't told Harry why she needed one more day, but he probably guessed. She did not necessarily need to be away from him for another day, but it was suddenly very important to her that she _could_ be away from him for a whole day. Harry Pearce was quite the force of nature, and Ruth had always believed in the back of her mind that he might completely overwhelm and consume her if she wasn't careful. And so this extra day alone was a test of her mettle, to prove to herself that she had not lost her ability to remain contented by her own company as she always had been in the past.


	57. Chapter 57

As the morning wore on, Ruth found that she had trouble focusing on the television program she was trying to watch. She could not read. Her mind wandered and there was a little niggle in the back of her brain that would not let her be.

She needed to talk to George.

Obviously she knew she couldn't. He was dead and buried. But in researching his death, she learned so many things about his life that she had never known. And it wounded her that this man she had agreed to marry—foolishly, to be sure, but agreed nonetheless—had so many secrets about him.

That was the thing about George that she had really liked. He was honest and straightforward. She had thought that what she saw was exactly what she was getting. He had a very definite sense of right and wrong, and he absolutely demanded the truth in all things. Rachel Emmerson had known that and appreciated that. Because Rachel was the same way. Rachel was quiet and kept to herself, but she did not keep herself from him. She had lost the man she loved, she had told him. Granted, she had not said how, but George assumed that her love had died and Ruth would not tell him any different. George made her smile with his Mediterranean good looks and his strength and his deep voice. He was strong and sure, and Rachel really thought she knew him.

And now Ruth had learned that he had a wife and child who had died many years before. He'd never told her about his child. Rachel would not have understood. Ruth would not have understood. But how could he ask her to marry him without ever having mentioned his son? Such a thing did not match the character of the man she knew.

Ruth knew she would never get an answer to that question, that lurking question of _why_, but she felt compelled to spend this one last day before returning home to Harry in trying to put it behind her.

She found some paper and a pen and sat down at the kitchen table. And Ruth began to write. She wrote every thought and question and concern she had for George. She put all of her worries and theories down in words. She even revealed the truth of herself to him, explained how Ruth had loved Harry enough to die for him, how she had been broken and afraid when George met her, how he had helped mend those broken pieces of her soul. She told him of all that had happened since his death, what had caused it, how she'd found her way home. And after countless pages of line after line, Ruth ended by thanking George for being a part of her life and for loving her and for showing her that the part of her heart that remained in her chest and not with Harry still knew how to be happy.

When it was all done, Ruth took the pages and burned them over the kitchen sink. The ashes smoldered for a moment before she washed them away down the drain. And then everything was quiet.


	58. Chapter 58

"I was wondering if you'd call again."

Harry sounded so peaceful when he answered the phone that night. That tone in his voice told her that he was smiling. "I wanted to say goodnight. I didn't want to go a whole day without hearing your voice," she told him.

He sighed happily. "I don't think I shall ever get used to it."

"What?"

"You saying things like that. Saying you don't want to go a whole day without hearing my voice."

"What's wrong with me saying that?"

Harry chuckled pleasantly. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I can't tell you what it means to me. I just…I never thought I'd ever hear it from you."

Ruth paused awkwardly. Harry was right, of course. Two years ago, she'd have never said anything like that. She wasn't brave enough to say what she'd really wanted to say to him. "Well, a lot's happened," she finally said. "And I hope that I don't go back to being afraid to tell you how I feel."

"I hope so, too," he replied softly.

"I…"

"Yes?"

"No, I want to say it when we're together again. Not over the phone."

"Alright."

They had another awkward silence again.

"So how was your day?" Harry asked, broaching a hopefully easier topic.

"A bit boring. But good. I'm doing better."

"And you're planning on coming back tomorrow?"

Ruth smiled to herself. "Yes, actually, I wanted to ask you if you know your schedule. Obviously barring emergencies, if you've got meetings or whatever."

"No meetings tomorrow, I don't think. But as you said, barring emergencies."

"Do you think you could possibly go in a bit late so that you're there when I arrive?" she asked. "I know I've come and gone a million times over the last months, but I would really like to see you as soon as I get there."

"Yes, I'd like to be home when you arrive," he agreed. "I don't think I should be in later than ten. Can you be here around nine?"

"Oh yes, that'll be fine."

"Good. I look forward to welcoming you home."

Ruth liked that idea, being home with him. "Is it…I mean…Can I…"

"Find the words, Ruth," he told her kindly.

She took a deep breath and summoned her courage. "Would it be alright if that was my home? For good, I mean?"

"Ruth, nothing in the entire world would make me happier than to have you live with me forever," he replied as earnestly as he could manage.

A warm feeling bubbled inside her body, nearly overwhelming her. But she did her best to temper it, to not go too far too quickly. "Me too. But I don't want you to feel as though I'm invading your space or inviting myself in or anything."

"I have not slept so badly as I have the last two nights without you since I was undercover in a war zone. I want you here with me. You aren't intruding at all. I want you here, Ruth," Harry assured her.

A thought popped into her head. "Have you been drinking?"

"I beg your pardon?"

She rephrased, "How much have you had to drink tonight?"

"Not enough to be saying things I don't mean, if that's what you're worried about."

"No, I mean can you drive?" she clarified.

"Yes, I can drive."

"Then…would you come pick me up?"


	59. Chapter 59

Harry probably acted a bit rashly. As soon as Ruth asked him to come get her, he'd dropped everything and gotten into the car. Hadn't even set the alarm for the house. Hopefully it wouldn't matter, he'd only be gone twenty minutes. Scarlett wasn't much of a guard dog, bless her. But Ruth had asked him to pick her up and bring her home, and even though he'd seen her yesterday morning, he missed her fiercely. After two years apart and then two months living together, the two days apart had been eternal.

Ruth had a bag packed and waited out in front of the townhouse where she'd been staying. Harry found parking about two houses over and got out of the car to greet her.

"What are you doing standing out on the stoop? It's not safe," he scolded lightly.

"Well what are you doing wandering London streets without shoes?! Bloody hell, Harry!" she fired back. Thankfully, though, she was smiling at him as he approached.

As soon as he climbed the steps to her, she dropped her bag and threw her arms around his neck. He wrapped her in his embrace and held her tight. "I missed you," he murmured. "I didn't want to wait another second to see you."

"So you didn't even stop to put on shoes?" she chuckled against his neck.

Harry pulled back just enough so he could take her dear face in his hands, brushing her hair back. He tried to think of something to say. Something charming or witty or romantic. To tell her how he loved her, how beautiful she was, how he would not have stopped for anything to be able to hold her again just like this. But the words would not seem to come.

Ruth's lovely face just smiled back at him. "Come on, stupid man, let's go home before you step on something ghastly and I have to drive you to the hospital for a tetanus shot."

It seemed the both of them were too pleased with their reunion to be bothered by much of anything at that moment. In the back of his mind, Harry knew that such unbridled joy could not last—such was not the nature of life, particularly his life. But for this one moment, Ruth was happy to see him, and he was happy to see her, and they could actually show it.


	60. Chapter 60

Ruth felt quite giddy, actually. She and Harry kept looking at each other, catching the other and smiling like lovesick fools. It was like they were teenagers in some romantic story. Their own story had been more tragic than romantic, all things considered, but Ruth knew to take what she could get when it came to the nicer things in life. She was under no illusions that she had completely moved on from the shocking revelations over the past few days. Some of those things she might never move on from. But for right now, she was unspeakably happy to be with Harry again. And for right now, that was what she would focus on.

Perhaps that was what George had taught her, to focus on the present and the good. She'd never really excelled at that before. But he had been such a force of joy, always one to look on the bright side. Not that he wasn't realistic and steady. George wasn't one to have his head in the clouds. But losing a wife and child, as Ruth now knew he had, perhaps it had made him want to focus on the good in life. Perhaps that's how he'd been able to keep going. And for him, Ruth would try to do the same.

The darkness would still find her at times, she was sure. But she did not need to go looking for it when it wasn't dogging her steps. She was happy now, and she would let herself be happy. She would let herself love Harry the way she'd always wanted to.

"Harry, you go take a shower right now and wash your feet," she instructed as he parked the Range Rover in front of the house. "I'll unpack my things and say hello to the animals."

He turned to her and opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it. She would not press it for the moment. He probably knew that she was exactly right.

And so Ruth and Harry went inside. She immediately went into the sitting room to greet her cats and Harry's little dog. Though by now, all three animals weren't just a mix of his and hers. All of them were _theirs_. And wasn't that a lovely thought?

"I'm going to go upstairs now. I'll play with you in the morning," she told them quietly, kissing Scarlett's wet little nose and giving Leopold and Fidget one last scratch behind the ears each.

She had just finished putting the last of her things from her bag back into her drawers of the dresser when Harry came from the bathroom. His hair was damp and curling, and he wore only a vest and trunks. It was how Ruth had come to expect him to look right before bed.

"All clean," he announced. "Feet very thoroughly washed from braving the streets of London."

Ruth gave a little laugh at that. "I'm glad to hear it."

He crossed over to her. She closed the drawer and turned to him as he put his hands on her hips. "Can I kiss you now?" he asked in that low, husky voice she loved so much.

"Please," she murmured in response.


	61. Chapter 61

**A/N: rated M**

Harry leaned in and kissed her, gently at first. His lips moved softly and sensually, taking his time relearning the beauty of her kiss. Her hands rested on his cheeks, like they had when she'd kissed him goodbye on the docks that day, but without the same desperate urgency. They were at home and at peace. And when his tongue teased the seam of her lips, she gave a happy little whimper as she opened her mouth to him.

He continued to kiss her just as slowly and reverently as he started to undress her. His lips only left hers to pull her blouse off over her head. Ruth took the initiative of removing her own bra. Harry moved his mouth down her neck, sucking hard at her pulse point while his hands teased her bared breasts.

"God, Harry!" she moaned.

He smiled into her skin. He'd never tire of hearing her say his name like that, hearing the desire in her voice.

Ruth felt dizzy. She was lightheaded and floating, lost in the sensations of Harry's mouth and hands. She was vaguely aware that he was walking them back towards the bed. Their bed. Their bed that she'd missed so very much.

The backs of her knees hit the edge and she fell into sitting. But she did not stay down for long. She stood up again to pull Harry's shirt off him and push his trunks down. Ruth sank down to her knees to take his erection in her mouth.

Harry let out a strangled sort of groan as her tongue swirled around the head of his cock. She sucked hard and then took him in till he hit the back of her throat. His hand tightened in her hair uncontrollably. Ruth pulled back to take a deep breath, and at that point, Harry had to stop her. If she was going to keep doing things like that, he'd have to figure out how to control himself better.

"Christ, Ruth, you'll be the death of me," he growled in awe.

She took his hand to stand up, removing the rest of her clothes as she did. "Don't say things like that. There will be no death of you anytime soon," she scolded playfully.

He gave her another few happy kisses, this time grabbing great handfuls of her bum as he did so. "I promise, you won't ever be rid of me now," he murmured.

They got into bed together, shivering slightly under the cold sheets. Harry rolled Ruth onto her back and returned to his torturously slow manner of kissing her. She spread her legs, lifting her knees to welcome him between her thighs.

Harry got the message that she was ready for him, but he was not quite finished yet. His fingertips trailed down her neck and breast and stomach to tease her wet folds. He plunged two fingers inside her without much warning, causing her to keen high and sweet. His fingers curled and thrust in just the manner that she needed. Her back arched up off the bed as her walls fluttered around him.

But then Harry surprised her. Instead of replacing his fingers with his cock, he rolled them over again so she was on top of him. Ruth was a bit dazed by the sudden change in direction. She blinked at him before regaining her sense of reality. She smiled. And he smiled back.

"Harry," she whispered, readjusting herself to straddle him.

"Yes, Ruth," he replied, feeling the silky-smooth skin of her thighs as she sat up.

She gently traced the smile lines around his mouth before leaning down to kiss him. "I love you, Harry," she said.

But before Harry could tell her that he loved her, too, Ruth had gotten up on her knees, taken his cock in her hand, and sunk down on him. The both of them cried out at the glorious feeling of it.


	62. Chapter 62

**A/N: rated M**

Ruth took her time. She moved slowly and purposefully, dragging him in and out of her. Her hands rested on his chest to brace herself. Harry watched her in complete awe, marveling at the majesty of her. His own hands wandered her body, from her breasts to her bum and everywhere in between.

Eventually, she began to speed up till she was riding him in earnest and her head was thrown back in ecstasy. Harry waited till she came, till she was spent of her energy, then he held her against his chest and bent his knees to pound up into her. Ruth whimpered at the force of his thrusts, carrying her through her aftershocks until they were both finally finished.

Their bodies were slick with sweat and their limbs were sprawled all over and tangled together. They were panting, trying to each catch their breaths as racing hearts began to slow.

Ruth was starting to get a cramp in her leg, and she could feel Harry going soft inside her. She rolled off him to flop onto her back. Every part of her was tingling with exhaustion and sated pleasure. "I'll wash the sheets tomorrow," she said.

Harry turned his head to look at her, chuckling in slight confusion. "What was that?"

"I was just thinking about the mess we've made. So I'll wash the sheets tomorrow while you're on the Grid," she replied. "I think I'll have to wash the sheets much more often from now on."

"Oh?"

"I don't know how long we'll be having sex every single night, particularly with your schedule and such, but it's no good to have bodily fluids dirtying the bedsheets," she pointed out.

Harry took that moment to summon his strength and roll over onto his stomach. He reached over to gently trace his hand over her stomach and hips. "We don't have to always dirty the bedsheets," he thought aloud.

This time it was Ruth's turn to ask, "Oh?"

"Maybe when I come home tomorrow, I'll take you in the kitchen. Or on the sofa after dinner. Perhaps we could have a go in the shower," he suggested.

Ruth bit her lip as she gazed at him, her eyes sparkling. "You've got quite a naughty streak, haven't you, Sir Harry?"

He nearly always rolled his eyes at the use of his stupid title, but he refrained for the moment. "You've inspired some very naughty things in me, Miss Evershed," he teased back.

She smiled. "It's a bit weird, really, you and I having fun together. But it's not. I mean…" she trailed off, her brow furrowing as she tried to find the words. "This feels perfectly wonderful, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does," Harry agreed.

"But to think that you and I could have ever gotten to this is almost laughable, what with where we started."

He knew she was right, but he did not like to think about it. He did not want her to think about it, lest she get frightened back into her old habits. And so he leaned in and kissed her softly. "Where we started is all part of what brought us here. But as we learned over the last two months, that's not everything between us. We can still be happy, you and me, without all the baggage of our past. And I think that's what's important, don't you?"

And Ruth was back to smiling. "Yes, Harry, I do."


	63. Chapter 63

Life continued on from there. For about a week, Harry had relatively regular hours at Thames House and in his meetings at Whitehall. Ruth readjusted to life back at his house—their house—with the animals and such. She had her memory back now, so she spent quite a lot of time on Harry's home computer, now that she had his full permission, looking into things she'd missed over the last two years away. She had not yet decided what to do about her mother. But Ruth kept telling herself that was a problem she would rather avoid. Eventually she'd figure out what to do. Eventually.

She also knew she'd need to get a job sometime soon. It was in the back of her mind almost constantly whether she wanted to ask Harry to let her come back to the Grid. In so many ways, that was where she belonged. She was good at that work. It was important work. And it was where all her friends were. Working for Five had changed everything about her, some for good and some for bad, but changed her nonetheless. And Ruth could not help but think that she couldn't really bear to do anything anywhere else.

But every time she got close to asking Harry if she could come back to work, something stopped her. Strangely enough, it was Harry that stopped her. He looked at her with such a soft expression. His smiles were easy and frequent. They were so unbelievably happy, here at home together. He'd made good on those ideas of making love to her in the kitchen and on the sofa and in the shower. When they were there together, everything was just so _good_. And why would she want to upset the apple cart? Surely things would change if they were back to working together. Surely she they would have disagreements at work that would follow them home. Surely this haven of home would become an extension of the hardship and terror of the Grid. And Ruth couldn't seem to bring herself to it. Not just yet.

After a whole week, however, Ruth couldn't just keep floating through life bored out of her mind. "Harry, I was wondering…"

"Yes, darling?" he asked, turning his attention away from the television and towards her as they snuggled on the sofa together after dinner.

Ruth played with the buttons on Harry's shirt. Her fidgeting hands were a symptom of her awkward nervousness, she knew, but there was nothing for it. "Do you think we could host a tea on Sunday?"

Harry was slightly taken aback. "A tea? Who are we hosting a tea for?"

She gave a little smile over his confusion. "Now that we're sort of settled and I'm back to being myself, I was hoping you'd let me see my friends. It's only Jo I've gotten to spend any time with, and that was just the one afternoon. But I'd love to see Malcolm and Adam and even Ros. And that Ben, who was so wonderful to rescue me. And since I obviously can't go to the Grid to see everyone, I was wondering if we could have everyone over here. Though, now that I say it out loud, I'm sure you don't want all of them coming to your house."

It was then that Harry took her fidgeting hands in his and stopped her rambling. "First off, Ruth, this is _our_ house, and I don't want you to ever forget that. And I should have realized sooner that you'd want to see your friends. I feel a bit stupid not thinking of it myself. Of course we can host a tea for everyone. They've all been dying to see you, I know. Malcolm and Adam haven't let me forget that they care about you. And even Ros has been listening intently whenever anyone's mentioned you. It'll be good to have everyone over. Make a proper homecoming celebration for you," he said happily.

Ruth grinned excitedly. "Thank you, Harry."

He gave her a quick kiss, just because he could. "I'll tell everyone tomorrow that they're invited over for tea on Sunday."


	64. Chapter 64

Harry was mildly distracted during the morning briefing that day. Jo was reporting on the ongoing surveillance of one of the Al Qaeda operatives they'd been after. Ros and Adam added in things from their various assets. Ben was tasked with some research with Malcolm. And when they were all on the same page, Harry gave his usual curt nod to indicate that they were finished.

"Thank you all," he said. "And one more thing, before you go off…"

Everyone turned back toward him questioningly. They weren't used to seeing him slightly awkward like that. Not around them, anyway. In the moment, Harry realized that the only time he was ever made to feel like this was around Ruth. Well, he used to, at any rate. There was no more awkwardness with her now, thank goodness.

Harry pressed on. "You all may know that Ruth has regained her memory. And she'd like to see you all. So, barring emergencies, you're all invited to ours for tea on Sunday."

Adam was first to react, his whole face lighting up. "Harry, did you say 'ours'?"

"Ruth moved into my house shortly after she returned to England," Harry explained.

"Hang on," Jo interjected, "I didn't go to your house when I went to see her. That was a safehouse, right?"

Harry nodded. "I had it reserved for her if she needed it. And she had occasion to stay a night there last week." He did not give any further details. The rest of it was none of their bloody business.

"Thank you for the invitation," said Malcolm, ever the voice of reason. "It'll be wonderful to see Ruth again. And to see the two of you together."

It took everything Harry had to not have his expression sour at that remark. It still stung, to recall the damage done by Malcolm bringing the Grid gossip to Ruth's attention. But it was all water under the bridge now, of course. Harry wouldn't comment.


	65. Chapter 65

Adam hung back when everyone else left the room, pausing to speak to Harry privately. "How is she doing, really?" he asked softly.

Harry could not help but give a small smile. "She's doing really well, I think. It's been difficult, these last months, her learning everything anew. And then when she did get her memory back, the things she remembered weren't the kindest. Not just Five, but her time during her exile. But she's coping. You know Ruth."

Adam nodded. "Bones of steel," he said fondly.

"Precisely," Harry agreed.

"Is she coming back, then?"

The question caught Harry off guard, though it shouldn't have. He had been toying with the idea all week, but he'd avoided the conversation with Ruth. He genuinely didn't know if he wanted her to come back or not. It was entirely her choice, and he would whole-heartedly support whatever she decided, but it would change things, to live together and work together. And with things going so well for them now, he did not want to rock the boat. But Adam had asked, and Harry answered, "I don't know. We haven't discussed it."

"She's got to come back. You know we need her here. She's the best analyst I've ever seen. And no one works as well with you as she does," Adam reminded him.

"It's not my decision alone, Adam," Harry replied. "She's been away from the Grid for over two years. And she's just got her memory back. Right now she's still trying to regain her life. She just wants to see her friends. I don't want to push her into anything right now."

Adam regarded Harry quite carefully at that. He didn't like when Adam did that. Being an entire head shorter than his Section Chief did not make Harry Pearce very happy, but it seemed par for the course. Men were taller nowadays, he was sure of it. But Adam Carter had a certain boyish, handsome look to him that, when turned to pensiveness, made Harry a bit uneasy. Adam's next words made Harry even more uneasy. "I didn't know you had it in you, Harry."

"What?" Harry growled, hoping to dissuade this line of conversation.

"You're…gentle. I guess that's the word for it. I've seen you with Wes, and you're wonderful with him, but that's for an hour here and there. You and Ruth live together. And I guess I just never pictured you being domestic with a woman."

"I was married," Harry said.

"Well, we all know what happened with that. But who would have thought that Sir Harry Pearce would go all moony for our weird, bookish Ruth?" Adam grinned pleasantly and crossed his arms with a smug sense of satisfaction.

Harry did not appreciate bearing his vulnerability to anyone, let alone his colleagues, but Adam was slightly different. Even if he was being infuriating at the moment. Harry had held this man as he sobbed over his wife's death. Harry had been the one to watch over Wes while Adam was in the hospital after being shot. Harry had seen Adam at his very worst and still let him go out and do the job. It was a show of respect to be truthful with him now. "I love her," Harry said simply.

"You do, don't you?"

"Yes, Adam, I really do. I would do anything for that woman. So if she wants to come back to the Grid, I'll make it happen. And if she never wants to see Thames House ever again, I'll make detours when we drive together. And if she wants to host a tea on Sunday, I'll make sure everyone shows up."

Adam chuckled and clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Good man."

The two left the meeting room to return to the day.

"Oh, by the way, would it be alright if I brought Wes to come see Ruth? Maybe on Saturday? I don't like him around too many of our people at once, when it can be avoided. But she was always so good with him, and I know he'll remember her and want to see her."

Harry remembered suddenly, "He called her Auntie Ruth, didn't he?"

Adam nodded.

"I'll ask her, but I'm sure she'd love that."

Then Ros called Harry's name and the chaos of the Grid overtook them once again.


	66. Chapter 66

Ruth had decided to make something rather interesting for dinner that night. Harry had texted to let her know he'd be home on time, barring anything unexpected in the next hour. Ruth was already halfway through her enormously complex recipe. She didn't have much to fill her days, so she was getting really ambitious with her cooking. Probably something to think about in the near future.

The cats wanted their dinner and Scarlett had found a squeaky toy, so there was meowing and squeaking as Ruth hummed to herself. It was nice to have the noise of the animals to keep her company when Harry was away. But they were also just loud enough to keep Ruth from hearing the front door open. She just went about her tasks until a pair of large hands snaked around her waist, making her jump with surprise.

"Jesus, Harry!" she shrieked.

He chuckled in her ear and kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry to frighten you."

She relaxed into his embrace and sighed happily. "I didn't hear you come in. I'm surprised you didn't trip over a cat on your way over to me. They've been absolutely mental."

"Haven't you fed them yet?"

"No, I've been busy finishing the Beef Wellington," Ruth replied.

Harry gave her another little kiss before letting her go. "Beef Wellington, you say? What's the occasion?"

"The occasion is that it's Thursday and I was bored. So I learned how to make Beef Wellington."

That was not a statement Harry much enjoyed hearing. He frowned as he went about feeding the cats. They'd gotten spoiled by the last few months of Ruth being home all day to give them attention and a regular schedule. They'd never expected much when it was just Harry, who kept incredibly odd hours during the time Ruth was away and he was caring for the cats on his own.

They sat down for supper a few minutes later. Harry set the table as Ruth finished off the meal. It was incredibly good. Ruth complained that she'd burned it a bit, but Harry was amazed at how delicious it was.

"Like everything else you do, Ruth, this is wonderful," he told her.

Ruth just smiled in response. "I've never been much good at receiving compliments, but you give me so many, I feel like I'm getting used to it."

"Good. I like being able to freely compliment you. You wouldn't let me before," he answered.

She frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know, I suppose the way you'd blush and avert your eyes whenever I said anything nice to you. I found it very charming, but it also made me very cautious. I never wanted to say the wrong thing or go over the line. And I was your boss. If I overstepped into something unwelcome or too intimate…well, I was more worried about being rejected by you than anything else, but it was in the back of my mind that I was acting a bit of a lecherous old fool."

Ruth took pity on him. "You were never like that with me, Harry. Honest. I actually don't think you ever said nearly enough to me. I knew how you felt—or rather, I guessed how you felt—based on what you did and the way you looked at me, rather than anything you said. Our one dinner date all those years ago, when you brought me back here and we shared a drink on the sofa with Scarlett, I think that was the most we'd ever spoken just the two of us uninterrupted and not about work."

"Yes, I think you're right. You weren't very shy that night, as I recall."

She shook her head with a slight chuckle. "Well, I certainly made up for it afterward. God, what an utter idiot I was!"

Harry reached across the table and patted her hand. "None of that now. We've moved past it."

Ruth sighed. "Yes, you're right."

He stood up and took their empty plates off the table. "Let's get the dishes done. You dirtied up about a million of them making all this wonderful food, and I'll need your help if I'm going to get them all washed before midnight," he teased.

Just for that, Ruth took her napkin and swatted Harry's bum with it. He laughed as he walked to the sink, leaving Ruth to pick up the rest of the place settings.


	67. Chapter 67

Harry wasn't sure what came over him. It was just a day like any other. They'd had a wonderful dinner together. They were doing the dishes as always. Funny how their new life together had become so normal so quickly. It was something out of a dream for him.

Perhaps that's what had inspired his mood. Just thinking about the fact that he never, in a million years, would have ever imagined this outcome for himself. He had fallen in love with Ruth through work, through torment and trauma, and they had been indelibly intertwined as a result.

Back then, when he'd so nervously asked her to dinner, when they'd so tentatively had their one and only date, Harry had hoped for something like this. To make love to Ruth and wake up with her in his arms and go through life side by side. But it had all come crashing down so quickly, with Cotterdam and with the amnesia and everything else. All those years ago, he had wanted such domesticity like they had now, yes. It just didn't ever seem possible. For what kind of spook gets to have a happy home life? Harry had yet to meet one. His marriage hadn't survived. Adam Carter's perfect, loving family had been ripped to pieces. Everyone else on the Grid was alone. No one made it out of Five with any sort of life outside it, if they made it out at all.

And wasn't that something to consider?

But here and now, he had Ruth putting away dishes as he washed them and she dried them. He indulged in the luxury of watching her. The way her blouse would lift up and expose that pale strip of skin at her midriff when she reached up to put plates in the cupboard. The way her skirt would tighten around her bum when she bent down to put the pots away. The way her hair would swish around her shoulders when she turned her head.

Ruth caught him looking at her and she smiled. Harry felt his heart do flips in his chest at that. Even still, seeing Ruth so unabashedly appreciate his attention and return his affection was more than he could ever believe was possible.

She turned away to put the silverware in the drawer as Harry wiped down the counter and dried his hands. Silent as one of their cats, Harry came up behind her and pulled her into his arms.

"Oh, there you are again," she laughed, recalling the way he'd surprised her just like that when she'd been cooking earlier. But her laugh turned to a moan as his hands immediately moved to places more intimate than her waist.

Harry felt strangely possessed. He needed to touch her and hold her and hear her and make her cry out his name. He wanted her so much he could hardly see straight. His left hand caressed her breast through her blouse and his right hand went between her legs, maneuvering the fabric of her skirt so he could begin to touch her.

Ruth whimpered at the feel of him. God, that man's hands! He could turn her to jelly with such little effort, it seemed. She felt his lips on her neck and his erection growing against her bum. She shifted to rub up against him, making him groan into her skin. His teeth nipped a little at her pulse point. Ruth nearly collapsed at that. But Harry's hands held her upright.

Too quickly, his talented hands had left her and she whined a bit at the loss of his touch. But she needn't have worried. Those hands of his had found the zip on her skirt, letting it pool at her feet. He took the hem of her blouse and pulled it up over her head. She made to turn and face him, but he wouldn't let her. He went right back to the way he'd been touching her before, only this time only her bra and knickers separated his hands from where she wanted him.

Harry sucked on her earlobe and moved a bit more insistently against her. Ruth gripped the counter in front of her, lest she falter and ruin the glorious things he was doing to her.

"You're so wet, Ruth," he growled in her ear. She nearly came on the spot.


	68. Chapter 68

**A/N: Rated M**

There was a moment of fumbling as Harry undid his belt and trousers and pushed them down to his ankles. He had only taken off his jacket and tie after getting home and his shirttails were in the way.

"Off, Harry," Ruth insisted, knowing what he was doing behind her and wanting him to be as bare as she. Her mind and body were too hazy as she stood there, bent over the counter, naked and trembling after his marvelous hands had already brought her one powerful climax.

Harry unbuttoned just enough of the shirt so he could pull it over his head and toss it aside with the rest of their clothes. He took himself in hand and teased her wetness. Ruth gasped and whimpered and begged for him. He thrust inside her hard and furious. She cried out his name as his body covered hers. Ruth readjusted her stance and braced herself against the counter. Harry's hot breath against her neck made her shiver. And he began to move inside her.

He'd started off with a steady pace, though he could hardly control himself from going faster and faster. He wanted to make her scream again, wanted to feel her clench and pulsate around his cock, but he didn't know if he'd last long enough.

Ruth was utterly surrounded by him. The cold stone of the countertop had turned hot from her body and slick from her sweat. Her panting breaths came out in high-pitched sounds with every sharp snap of his hips and wet slap of their bodies. God he was so good, it boggled the mind. Her hands scrabbled against the stone, seeking something to hold onto, reaching for him somehow but unable to reach him from this position. She was right on the edge, but tore herself from the precipice.

"Wait, Harry," she forced herself to say.

Through the fog of his lust-filled mind, Harry managed to stop moving. He pulled out from her, his throbbing cock weeping from the loss of her hot wetness. "What's wrong?" he asked worriedly. His voice was gravelly from his panting exertion.

Nearly falling over on weak knees as she did, Ruth managed to turn herself around to face him. "I need you," she said simply. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with everything she had. This was what she was missing, this closeness, this ability to see him and feel him and touch him as he was able to with her. Sometimes it was extremely erotic and exciting for him to take her from behind like that, feeling the power of him with all that leverage to take her hard. But she needed this right now. Why, she couldn't say. But she needed to kiss him and look into his eyes and tell him she loved him as they found their ecstasy together.

Harry had been concerned that he'd done something wrong, that he was hurting her or she wasn't enjoying herself. But he was absolutely elated that what she wanted was this, to be able to kiss him and hold him. He found himself asking for the millionth time, _how_? How could this woman love him and want him like this? How was it even possible? Harry wasn't sure he'd ever know the answer, but he would do everything in his power to honor it as best he could.

As they kissed, Harry pulled her flush against him. His cock was trapped between them and painting their abdomens in Ruth's wetness. He kneaded the gorgeous flesh of her bum between his hands as her breasts pressed against the plane of his chest. Her tongue had surged into his mouth in a manner that always made his heart skip a beat.

Ruth pulled away to take a breath of air. "I love you," she whispered. "Make me come, Harry."

"Jesus," he breathed, overwhelmed by the sheer eroticism of hearing her say those words, knowing how much she wanted him. If she weren't so overwhelmed by her arousal, she surely would have never said such things or blushed at the very thought of them.

With as much strength as he could muster, Harry lifted Ruth up onto the counter. It was the exact right height for him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, squeezing him between her thighs as he pressed inside her once again. Their arms wrapped around each other once again and their kiss began anew as Harry thrust in and out of her. She used the leverage of her legs to raise her hips and meet him with every move. They were so tangled together, neither was quite sure where one began and the other ended.

Ruth could feel herself getting close again. "Together," she begged against his lips. Harry sped up, pounding into her harder and harder to chase his release. He felt himself spurt inside her just as her inner walls clamped down on him. Their moans of pleasure echoed through the kitchen as they both spasmed and eventually stilled.


	69. Chapter 69

Harry could barely keep himself upright after they'd finished. Ruth was leaning against him and clutching his shoulders as they both tried to catch their breaths. He pulled out of her, but as he did, he lost his footing and she kept holding onto him. The pair of them grabbed at the counter but couldn't quite keep upright so they tumbled to the floor in a strange slow-motion comedy of awkward limbs. They were tangled together in a heap on top of their discarded clothes. Harry ended up leaning back against the cabinets with Ruth's back halfway on his chest. Once they'd landed in some semblance of comfort, he wrapped his arms around her.

"I guess we're stuck here for a while," he noted with a slight chuckle.

"I'm fine with that," she answered, craning her neck around to kiss his cheek before snuggling against him.

"Well, if we stay here long enough, eventually the animals are going to find us. I'm not sure how much I like the idea of being naked around the cats."

"Just the cats?"

"Well, the claws make me nervous in this state of undress."

Ruth laughed. Oh how wonderful it was to laugh with Harry. How strange and wonderful.

They fell silent, content to hold each other as their heartrates returned to normal. A slight chill came over her, sitting naked in the kitchen like that, but Harry just held her tighter to keep her warm. Apparently he wasn't ready to try and make a move yet.

Harry's mind was whirling with thoughts, now that his lust had been quelled for the time being. It had only been a few hours before that he'd invited everyone over for tea and talked with Adam. Seemed like so much longer.

"Everyone is coming for tea on Sunday," he told her, realizing they hadn't discussed it between them yet.

"And who is everyone?" she asked in return. She wasn't entirely sure of the makeup of his current team on the Grid.

"Adam, Ros, Jo, Malcolm, and Ben," Harry replied.

"Oh that's wonderful. Thank you, Harry."

"They're all looking forward to seeing you. Though it was a bit awkward to invite them to our house."

"Because it's our house, not your house?"

He hummed to tell her she was right. "And because this wasn't where you were when Jo came to see you," he added.

"Yes, that's right," she recalled. "Well, I'm sure our presence here together will answer their questions. Because we aren't going to be answering any questions otherwise. Our life here is none of their business."

Harry found that to be quite a change in her. "That used to bother you before," he said.

"Well, that was before. When I was young and naïve and you were my boss."

And that reminded him of another thing they needed to discuss. "About that…now that you've got your memory back, do you want to return to Section D?" he asked on bated breath.

The idea turned over and over in Ruth's mind. It wasn't as though she hadn't thought of it. She knew she needed to get a job before she died of boredom. And when things were very stressful for Harry and he was working insane hours at Thames House, it would bother her to not be there with him and not be able to know what was going on. If it was difficult for her when she had no memory of what working on the Grid was like, it was going to be doubly difficult now; she knew exactly what she was missing out on.

But if she were there with him, would it ruin this magnificent sanctuary they'd built for themselves? Could they ever have shag in the kitchen and snuggle up on the floor afterwards like this if the both of them were bogged down by the problems of the world? Ruth honestly wasn't sure.

"I'll think about it," she finally replied. "I don't have an answer yet. I think we should discuss it more. But preferably after we've had a shower."

Harry gave a small chuckle. "I think that's a fine idea. I don't know if I can make it off the floor, but we should get upstairs, I suppose."

Ruth extricated herself from his grasp and got herself up, gathering her clothes as she did. "Do you need any assistance? After all, you did work quite hard tiring us both out. Helping you off the floor is the least I can do."

Her making light of his old, feeble body was very sweet of her. It also helped to know that even if he had trouble getting himself off the floor, at least he could very successfully get her off. "I'm alright, darling," he replied, managing to haul himself up despite his aching knee.

She handed him his clothes and kissed his cheek. "My hero."


	70. Chapter 70

When Harry first mentioned that Adam wanted to bring Wes over for a visit, Ruth was overjoyed. She obviously remembered little Wesley Carter—at least now she did—and she could not wait to see him. It was also nice to be able to see Adam separately from the rest of the group before they all came over on Sunday. All those years ago, Ruth had been quite close to Adam and Wes, particularly after they'd lost Fiona. After all, it was Ruth who had gotten a nanny for Wes in an attempt to have the boy able to stay at home with his father. Harry had informed Ruth in rather vague terms that it hadn't worked out and Wes was now in boarding school but home for the summer holiday at the moment.

But when Ruth was home alone on Friday while Harry was working, her mind began to wander. Would Wes even remember her? He'd been through quite a lot in his young life, and trauma can affect children in a myriad of ways. And would seeing his Auntie Ruth, as he'd once called her, dredge up unpleasant memories?

She was so worried about how it would go that she was a complete mess by the time Saturday luncheon rolled around. Harry tried to calm her down, but he had to go meet the Home Secretary on Saturday morning, leaving Ruth alone with her anxiety. Harry wasn't even home by the time the doorbell rang.

"Auntie Ruth!"

She was greeted by a blonde ten-year-old launching himself at her and giving her a big hug. All that worry for nothing. "Oh Wes, it's so good to see you!" she cried, hugging him back. She could feel the nervous lump in her throat make the tears well up in her eyes. And when she looked up and saw tall, handsome Adam Carter smiling merrily at her, those tears fell in earnest.

Adam took pity on her and ushered the three of them inside. "Come on, don't lurk in doorways. Wes, let Ruth breathe a little," he said as he closed the front door behind them.

"Dad told me you came home! When you went away, he said you wouldn't come back, but I knew you would. Did you get my letters?" Wes asked excitedly, looking up at Ruth with the most earnest expression.

Ruth wiped her tears away and did her best to explain, "No, I'm sorry. I didn't get any letters when I went away. You know I'd have written you if I could have. I missed you so much, Wes. Now come sit down for lunch and tell me everything about your school." She pasted a happy smile on her face for Wes's benefit.

Wes hurried into the kitchen, having been to Uncle Harry's house many times before. The two adults were left in the foyer together. Adam wasted no time giving Ruth a hug even more consuming than his son's.

"It's so good to have you back, Ruth. When Ben told us he'd brought you home, I nearly killed Harry when he said we couldn't see you," Adam told her, finally releasing her from his embrace.

"It would have been awful if you'd seen me when I first got here," Ruth said. "I know how Harry looked at me when I didn't know him. I know how hurt he was to have me here but still missing. It was better than you all didn't have to suffer like that."

"I can't imagine how hard it was for Harry," Adam said sympathetically.

Ruth gave a tight smile. "We managed. And we're all the better for it now." She blinked back the residual tears. "Come on, let's have lunch. I know better than to wait for Harry, but hopefully he'll be back soon."


	71. Chapter 71

Harry arrived home about halfway through lunch. He greeted Wes and Adam happily and, without even thinking about it, he leaned down to kiss Ruth where she sat to greet her as well. Wes didn't seem to notice but Adam had an extremely smug look on his face that immediately made Harry freeze in panic. But Ruth just blushed and turned away with a little smile and no more was said about it. There was something about being at home with her that just made him forget his propriety. But so long as Ruth wasn't bothered, Harry wouldn't be either.

The four of them finished up eating and Wes wanted to go outside and play football, something he often did when he spent time with Harry. Ruth said she'd bring them biscuits outside in a minute, and Adam volunteered to help with the washing up. Harry took Wes out to the garden with Scarlett barking merrily at their heels.

"So what is it you wanted to talk to me about alone?" Ruth astutely asked, clearing the lunch plates.

Adam smiled at that. "God, it's so good to have you back, Ruth," he gushed. "We've all missed you so much. No one more than Harry, of course, but you know we all need you around."

Ruth was pleased with the compliment and thanked him as she started the washing up.

"So when do we get you back on the Grid?" he asked, taking a towel to start drying.

Her pleasant expression faded. "I haven't really made up my mind yet," she told him.

"Oh come on, Ruth. You'll get bored doing anything else! And you know you'll hate it if you're living with Harry and you don't get to be part of the action," Adam told her.

"There's other things to consider. And Harry and me living together is definitely part of it. There's…there's more at stake than before."

Adam was obviously unhappy with that answer. But he thankfully knew when to back off. "I know it's your decision, and I'll let you make it. And Wes and me will still love you no matter what. But from where I'm standing, Ruth, Section D has been hobbling along without your mind on our side. And I think you owe it to yourself and to the team to finish what you started."

Just out of spite, Ruth nearly told him that she'd never step foot in Thames House again as long as she lived. But she kept her mouth shut. How dare Adam guilt her into this major decision like that!? It wasn't his place or anyone's to try and influence her decision. Harry was practically killing himself to keep out of swaying her one way or the other, and Ruth could tell it was difficult. Adam didn't have the same relationship with her that Harry did, of course, but a friend shouldn't try to manipulate another friend like that.

Ruth stayed quiet as she finished washing the dishes, leaving Adam to dry and stack them. She'd put things away later.

"Come on," she said, getting the biscuit tin from the sideboard. "Let's go watch your son trounce Harry at football."

She did not wait for Adam to follow her before she walked purposefully out the backdoor with her head high and her shoulders squared in a feeble attempt to appear like she wasn't feeling utterly shattered.


	72. Chapter 72

Ruth was reading in bed when Harry got out of the shower and joined her. He'd gotten a bit overly-exuberant playing with Wes. As that boy got older, it became more difficult to trick him out of making Harry exert energy. But the four of them had enjoyed a wonderful Saturday afternoon.

But Ruth had been quiet. Harry had expected her to be enthusiastic and happy and talkative when she saw Adam and Wes again, and perhaps she had been before Harry had arrived home, but maybe he'd imagined it wrong. Maybe she was let down by the reunion in some way. Or maybe there was more to be anxious about in that big brain of hers that he hadn't even contemplated.

He got into bed beside her, and Ruth put down her book to look over and smile at him. "Hello, darling," he greeted. "Sorry I took so long."

"You needed to shower after getting all sweaty with Wes," she teased. "You're much better at football than I'd imagined, particularly playing in a suit like you did."

"I know, shameful for a man my age," he said in self-deprecation.

"Not shameful at all. I loved watching you two play like that. I'm just not used to you exerting yourself and getting all sweaty without gunfire or sex involved," she said.

Harry burst out laughing. "Gunfire or sex?"

"Yes, well, in my experience, when you're all sweaty its because you've been engaged in a firefight or chase or something. But more recently, it's because we've had sex. Unless you've been getting shot at in the last few months without telling me."

"No, I've not gotten shot at in quite some time. Though I wouldn't be able to tell you if I had," he pointed out.

That soured Ruth's good mood once again. "Yes, about that…"

"Yes?" Harry had a feeling that Adam probably said something to her about going back to the Grid. He hoped it hadn't upset her. Perhaps he should have insisted on being in the room and not letting the two of them be alone?

"I want to go back to work. At Five," Ruth proclaimed.

"You do?"

"I've been thinking about it since we talked the other day. And seeing Adam today convinced me."

Harry nodded. "I had a feeling he'd try that."

"Well he actually annoyed me a bit, trying to make it seem like there's no other alternative for me. But he's right, isn't he? I mean, it isn't good for us to keep secrets from each other. I don't think I could handle it in the long term to not know what's going on with you all the time. Not that I'm suspicious or anything but just to know that we can't share things feels very sad to me."

"I think so too," he agreed softly.

"And seeing Adam just made me miss getting to see him all the time. And when everyone comes over tomorrow, I'm sure I'll feel even stronger about wanting to go back."

"You're absolutely sure about this, Ruth? I mean, it's not just getting to work with your friends. You know there are very real consequences to that work and that life. It's not the only choice you have."

A small smile appeared on her lovely face. "I choose you, Harry. For all the good and the bad. I want all of it with you."


	73. Chapter 73

Harry was happy. It was not often that he felt that way. It was even less often that he was able to take a moment and actually realize that he was indeed happy. But here and now, in this moment, he looked around the living room of his house, and he was happy.

Malcolm was sitting in Harry's usual armchair. Ros and Adam were in chairs across from him. Ben and Jo were sitting on one end of the sofa while Harry and Ruth were sitting together on the other. Harry's arm was resting on the back of the sofa behind Ruth, and her hand every so often ended up resting on his thigh. The casual ease of their intimacy surprised them both and certainly surprised their friends, but the smiles of approval from everyone seemed to lessen any awkwardness.

Ruth had made a marvelous spread for tea. There were sandwiches and biscuits and even little canapés. She'd spent all morning getting everything ready. And she'd been so focused on the food, she'd nearly forgotten to start the kettle to make the actual tea.

Jo and Ben had arrived first. Ruth was pleased to be able to see Ben again and thank him for the sheer luck of overhearing her asking for Harry in that hospital in Turkey as well as for his kindness and initiative in ensuring she made it back to England safely. Jo, of course, knew most everything about what had happened to Ruth in the interim. But neither of them had ever been to Harry's house before. Jo immediately made friends with little Scarlett while Ben had been chosen by Fidget to receive quite a lot of attention.

Malcolm had shown up next, nearly crying when he finally got to see and hug Ruth for the first time in more than two years. Ruth herself had been quite emotional for their reunion.

Adam and Ros arrived a bit late, once the rest were all seated in the living room with their tea. Apparently they'd needed to sort something on the Grid, but Adam assured Harry that everything was well in hand.

The whole group chatted pleasantly until Ruth dropped the big news. "Well Harry will have to work out exactly when, but I've decided to come back to Section D. As soon as I'm able, I'll be back on the Grid with all of you."

Everyone agreed this was a marvelous idea. Jo turned to Ben and told him, "You weren't here with Ruth before, so you have no idea how incredible this is. I didn't know how good we had it till she was gone. She is the best analyst you will ever meet in your life."

Ben smiled and was about to say something in response when he noticed movement outside the front window behind where Adam and Ros were sitting. His expression went serious very quickly. "Adam, have you gotten anything from the Grid about Al-Bahzri?"

Both Adam and Harry nearly scolded him for revealing classified information around someone who—for the time being—had no security clearance. But Adam pulled his mobile out to check it. "No, why?"

Malcolm's watch began to beep in a shrill tone. Ben looked to him and then back to Adam. "Because I think I see him outside."

Everyone whirled around to look out the window to check what Ben saw. Everyone except Malcolm. "That sound on my watch is an alert for a radio frequency calibrated to an explosives detonator," he said, voice shaking with fear.

Harry was the only one to react quick enough. He threw Ruth to the floor and bellowed, "EVERYBODY DOWN!"


	74. Chapter 74

Ruth was stunned, more than anything else. Everything was dark and silent. The smell of burning filled her nostrils. It took her a while to orient herself. The carpet. She could feel the carpet under her hands. Under her cheek. She was on the floor. There was a weight on her, keeping her down. She pushed against it as things started to come into place. She could see the hazy room around her as she blinked. And then the sound returned.

Car alarms were going off in the street. There was shouting. Jo. Jo was shouting. Screaming, actually. Adam's voice carried over the din.

"Malcolm, call for an ambulance. Ros is in pursuit. I've got to go with her. Jo, you've got to pull yourself together. Harry? Where's Harry? Where's Ruth?"

Ruth herself was able to crawl out from under the weight holding her down. "I'm here, Adam," she called. Her voice was weak. Why was her voice weak? She coughed from the dust and smoke filling the air.

Adam came over to where she was sprawled on the floor. "Oh Jesus," he said quietly.

That was when Ruth was able to look over. The weight holding her down wasn't just a weight. It was Harry. Harry's body. And his face was covered in blood. Ruth was nearly sick right there.

"Harry?" she croaked. "Harry? Harry, what's wrong?" Ruth got up on her knees and knelt beside him, find the source of the bleeding. "Come on, love," she begged, taking his face in her hands. Drips of wet mottled the blood as Ruth's tears fell from her eyes and landed on his cheek. "Please, Harry. Please don't leave me. Please, we'd just found out way! I just found my way back to you! We were happy, Harry. Please don't leave me alone again!"

Nothing in Ruth's brain seemed to be working. She didn't know if he was breathing. She didn't know if his heart was beating. She didn't know if he was already dead. But she could not stop holding him and pressing kisses to his pouting lips and desperately pleading for him to stay with her.

Adam had to pry her off of him when the ambulance arrived. Ruth had no idea what was going on. She was hyperventilating from crying so much. Malcolm took her in his arms to try to calm her so Adam could do his job. And all Ruth could do was sob.


	75. Chapter 75

This had all happened before. Well, not exactly. It was never exactly the same, was it? But this scenario was not new to him. He had come to consciousness before his eyes opened many, many times before. And each time, the first realization he had was that he was in immense pain.

"Harry?"

A soft voice called out. Amidst the blood pounding in his ears, he heard a woman speaking. And through the waves of pain, he felt a hand clutching tight to his. He squeezed back before blinking his eyes open to the bright harshness of the world.

"How are you feeling, darling?"

Stormy blue eyes gazed at him with deep concern. Beautiful eyes. They belonged to the woman holding his hand. Beautiful woman. "Who are you?" he asked.

A flicker of panic crossed her lovely face. "What?"

Harry's lips twitched. "That isn't a funny joke, is it?"

Ruth let go of his hand to smack him in the arm. "Dammit, Harry! You had me thinking you had amnesia!"

He laughed and coughed in equal measure, not being able to do much amidst the pain but still retaining his rather poor sense of humor. "I am sorry. I couldn't resist. No amnesia for either of us, Ruth. Not anymore, I promise."

Her expression softened and she took hold of his hand again, bringing it up to her lips to press gentle kisses on his knuckles. "I can't tell you how relieved I am that you're alright," she murmured.

"I'm in more pain than I can recall for a very long time, but yes, I'm alright. What happened? All I remember is Malcolm's bomb detector watch going off."

Ruth nodded. "You threw me to the ground and the blast went off in the street right outside the house. Best we can figure is that some of the debris and glass hit you extremely hard in the head and back. You have some cracked vertebrae and broken ribs and a small crack in your skull."

Harry frowned. "How long have I been out?"

"I'm not entirely sure. You were unconscious when I came-to. I don't know if I've ever been more upset than I was with you lying bloody and unconscious there. The ambulance came and took you here and right into surgery. That was Sunday afternoon. And it's Monday evening now," she told him.

He gave her a gentle smile and squeezed her hand. "Well I'm sorry you give you a scare. But are you alright?"

Ruth gave a tight smile as tears welled up in her eyes. "Slight concussion from the blast but not a scratch otherwise."

"Good. That's what matters."

"What matters is that we're both alive and we're together. I love you so much, Harry. Don't you dare leave me now that we've finally made it here."

"I love you, Ruth. More than anything. And I won't ever leave you. We'll be alive and together for a long time yet," he vowed.


	76. Chapter 76

A nurse came in to check on Harry, forcing Ruth to let go of his hand and take a few steps back from where she had been sitting. She watched very closely at everything being done, making sure she understood what was going on. Harry had a strange thought that Ruth might have made a very good doctor, if she'd wanted to be. Though he could imagine that Ruth Evershed spent her Oxford years devouring literature and language courses and shunning a science laboratory with everything in her.

When the nurse left, Ruth took her seat at his bedside once again. "So," he said, "I haven't gotten calls from Adam or the Home Secretary yet, and you haven't run off to make those calls to tell people I'm awake. So you'd better tell me what's been going on over the last two days."

Ruth frowned, her distaste for the subject very evident in her expression. "I don't get to know much, since I don't have security clearance at the moment. But I do know that Ben was killed in the explosion. Jo has been beside herself with grief over it. She came by this morning and told me. She also said that Ros caught Al-Bahzri, whoever that is. And I know Adam has been taking on everything with the Home Secretary. Malcolm came to visit earlier today as well. He got a rather nasty cut on his leg from shrapnel, but he's been stitched up and he'll be just fine. He also took the liberty of taking the animals home with him for us. Leopold is a bit traumatized but Scarlett and Fidget are just fine. Your house is cordoned off by police, and the front room that got blasted to bits is covered with some plastic to keep the elements out. It's all a mess."

Harry's mind was whirling with this information. Perhaps it was because he'd just woken up and he didn't have his wits about him yet, but a very powerful feeling washed over him. "We're leaving," he proclaimed.

"What?"

"The Service. London, even. I know you said you wanted to come back to work, Ruth, but I don't think you should. I think I should retire and we should take our cats and dog somewhere in Suffolk or wherever and get married and live a quiet life," he said.

"What!?" The panic in her face would have been funny if Harry weren't so serious about this.

"I mean it. My house just got blown up, Ruth. Our house. Ben died and I nearly did, too. And we were just having tea with our friends! It's just as you said, we just found our way to each other. I don't want either of us in danger like this anymore. I know it comes with the job, and I know you wanted to come back to work so that we would be able to share that like always, but I don't want any of it anymore. Sod it all. The HS might object but I don't bloody care. I need you and me together and _safe_. I'll be recovering for weeks, I'm sure, and after that, I'll train up Adam to take over the Section, and you and I can move on."

Ruth was overwhelmed by everything he was saying. He was right, that she decided to return to Five so that they'd be working together. And that was because it never occurred to her that he would ever leave. "Harry, you don't really mean that. You're just…you're just reacting to what's happened."

"I am reacting to what's happened and I completely mean it, Ruth," he insisted. He reached out, feeling his broken bones twinge as he did so, and took her hand tight in his. "Please, Ruth. Please let's escape this life while we can. We were lucky this time. I don't want to bet on my being lucky much longer."

Ruth just stared at him. She didn't know what to say.


	77. Chapter 77

It was May, and the days were getting longer. The sun shone through the bedroom window, peeking through the gap in the blinds. Ruth thought, not for the first time, that she might like to find some curtains to put up instead of those blinds.

But it was May and the sun was shining. And it being May, Ruth thought back to where she'd been last May. Last May had begun in sunny Cyprus. She'd woken up beside George and they had decided to take a trip to Turkey to see his family. And that had changed everything. By the time last May had ended, Ruth had no memory of who she was and she had been whisked way to London and moved in with a man whose name was the only piece of information remaining in her head. May and June and part of July had been a fog of amnesia and confusion and yearning until she and Harry had found their way together and her memory had returned.

Strange to think it was less than a year since she'd gotten her memory back. But everything had changed with that as well. All that had been lost was found, and the things she'd been too afraid of before she had then grabbed onto with both hands.

The bed shifted beside her as Harry rolled over and put his arms around her. "Good morning," he murmured with a gravely voice, pressing sleepy kisses to her jaw.

Ruth smiled. There was nothing better in all the world than this, than waking up in bed with Harry beside her. Such a thing had felt so impossible once. But she knew better now. She knew to never give it up.

She turned in his arms and pressed her lips to his. He blinked his eyes open and gave the most beautifully joyful smile.

"We can't dally today," she reminded him. "We've got to get dressed and be out by ten."

"We can take a little time. After all, they can't very well start without us," he noted. As he spoke, his hands wandered under the bedsheets and up her shirt and inside her knickers. His fingers teased her and she whimpered at the sensation.

"But we don't want to keep everyone waiting," she protested feebly. All their friends from London were traveling out to Suffolk for the occasion, none of whom Ruth or Harry had seen in person since they left London and left Five in January.

Harry did not bother to make another argument. He kissed her into silence, and Ruth melted against him. She knew they could not take their time this morning, but this was certainly worth it. And if they were a little late, so be it. Harry was right. The wedding couldn't start until the bride and groom showed up.

**THE END**


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